


With Whom Fate Brings You Together

by Somniare



Series: To Which Fate Binds You [2]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Civil Partnership, M/M, Moving House, Post Series 7, coming to terms with change, family matters, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s funny the way things turn out, isn’t it?” Laura mused.  “Look at you two, for instance – you’re positively glowing.  Love suits both of you extremely well.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart._ Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
> 
> Beta by the lovely wendymr. Thank you so much.
> 
> Brit-pick by dear Barcardivodka.
> 
> The story was tweaked a bit afterwards and all remaining goofs, fluffs and errors are all mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own them, just playing, promise to put them back safely.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Robbie knew he and James had taken a risk coming out at his retirement party – but only a small one.  While nearly all had been taken by surprise, the overall response was as positive as Robbie had hoped.  Many offered their congratulations, and his heart soon stopped its nervous hammering.  Shortly after, he was gobsmacked to overhear one of their former team members congratulate James on his patience and finally getting his man.  James’s look of surprise and awkward thanks brought a fond smile to Robbie’s face.  When James saw him, he shrugged and grinned sheepishly.  
  
As the initial hubbub settled into a loud murmur, Laura approached them with a warm smile.  Stretching up on tip-toe, she embraced them one at a time, before standing between them with her arms linked through theirs.   
  
“It’s funny the way things turn out, isn’t it?” she mused.  “Look at you two, for instance – you’re positively glowing.  Love suits both of you extremely well.”  
  
James went pink and huffed an embarrassed laugh, flicking a shy glance at Robbie.  It earned him a gentle dig in the ribs from Laura.  
  
She bowed her head and rocked into Robbie.  “I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened, and where you and James are headed.  This may sound a little... odd, and I can assure you I'm sober and of sound mind and I have thought it through thoroughly, but _when_ you do get... not married, you can’t do that yet... what _do_ you call it?”  She looked at James.  
  
“Partnered,” he offered.  
  
Laura wrinkled her nose.  “No.  That’s almost... clinical.  Hitched,” she said decisively.  “When you do get hitched, I'd like to be a part of it, if you'll have me.”  
  
Robbie was puzzled.  “Course you'll get an invite – like I said, you're at the top of the list.”  
  
Laura arched her eyebrows, and looked pointedly at him, then James.  Robbie had a feeling he’d missed something.  
  
James spoke haltingly.  “I, er, I don't think that's quite what Laura means, is it?”  
  
Laura shook her head and stared at Robbie, as though willing him to understand.  
  
“Oh!”  The penny dropped.  “You'd want to do that?  You’d like be a witness?”  
  
“We are still friends, aren't we?”  She spoke with great affection.  
  
Robbie kissed her cheek.  “We are,” he said warmly.  It was one more confirmation Laura wasn't simply being gracious, she was truly happy for them, and had forgiven him for the hurt he'd caused.  “It's... well, there will be those who say it's a bit unusual.”  
  
“Undoubtedly,” she agreed.  “But it would be your civil partnership – or marriage – not theirs.  It's about what you want.  If it was you and I, would it have been a safe bet to say you would have asked James?”  
  
“Aye.”  Robbie huffed.  “I suppose it would have been.”  
  
She winked playfully.  “Anyway, it's just a thought.”  
  
She kissed them both again and returned to Innocent’s side, where she was soon receiving a fair amount of attention.  Her obvious approval of their relationship appeared to be the most unexpected part of the night for many.  Robbie could only imagine some of the awkward and cautiously – or not so cautiously – worded questions being asked.  He wanted to intervene and apologise for putting her in that position, except she seemed to be quite comfortable with the attention.  
  
He admired her grace and strength.  
  
Shortly afterwards, he watched as Innocent whispered in Laura’s ear.  Presumably she had reminded her of their prior engagement.  They said their goodnights soon after and left.  The remainder of Robbie’s guests started to drift off over the next half hour.  Hooper was one of the last to leave.  Robbie shook his head as he watched Peterson and James help him out of the room, and presumably into a taxi.  
  
James returned by himself.  
  
“Peterson says goodnight.  He decided the wisest course of action was to escort Hooper home.  Hooper told the taxi driver to take him to ‘Narnia’,” James explained at Robbie’s perplexed frown.  “Fortunately, he’s not on call this weekend.”  
  
Robbie dropped into one of the lounge chairs as the events of the night caught up with him.  He reached and took James’s hand, grunting as James dropped into his lap.  
  
“Are you ready to go home, pet?”  
  
“Yup.”  James leant back against Robbie, letting his head drop back on to Robbie’s shoulder.  He yawned loudly.  
  
“Right, you two.”  Lyn stood in front of them with her hands on her hips.  “Suppose we’d better get you home before we have to carry you.”  
  
“Now, now, love,” Robbie protested good-humouredly.  “We’re not drunk, not very.”  
  
“Maybe not, but you both look like you’re about to fall asleep if you sit there much longer.  C’mon, you first.”  She held out a hand to James.  
  
***  
  
Robbie had his arm around James’s waist, and James’s arm was slung across Robbie’s shoulder as they followed Lyn and Tim to where they’d parked the car.  The crisp night air had been like a slap in the face as they’d exited the hotel, neither having thought to bring heavier coats with them.  Walking a few paces ahead, Lyn kept turning around as though to ensure they kept up.  Her soppy smile warmed him inside as much as the heat coming off James’s body kept the chill away.  
  
They walked easily side by side, as they’d done for years.  This time, however, it was openly as a couple, even if the members of their little group were the only ones aware of it.  To an outsider, Robbie thought they probably looked like two drunken mates supporting each other.  
  
***  
  
James lay on his side.  His fingers traced lazy circles over Robbie’s bare chest and belly.  He was thoughtful.  “It was nice to be free to walk down the street as we did tonight.  Those moments won’t come along very often.”  
  
“No, you’re probably right there.”  Robbie rolled onto one elbow and laid his hand on James’s hip.  He pulled him closer and trailed his fingers in swirls down his thigh.  “But I’m not really big on public displays meself.  I much prefer this.”  He kissed James and pressed forward.  
  
James rolled onto his back, taking Robbie with him.  “I concur,” he murmured.  
  
***  
  
At the same time Robbie and James were falling asleep in each other’s arms, Jean and Laura, having shaken hands with or air-kissed the appropriate people, had found themselves a quiet corner away from the main room of the supper club.  The venue was unremarkable, and the guest list, sadly, had been predictable, but the food and wine offered were superb.  
  
Jean had secured a bottle of fine Australian merlot and proceeded to refill Laura’s glass.  Laura was very happy they’d taken a taxi.  
  
“So.”  Laura raised her glass to Jean’s.  “With Robbie not only spoken for but gone from the ranks, who’ll be the next Mr Innocent stand-in?  It’s a pretty narrow field.”  
  
“Narrow?” Jean scoffed.  “It essentially boils down to Grainger or Peterson.”  
  
“Oh, Alan’s not that bad if you give him a chance.  If James has adjusted, I’m sure you could.”  Laura was rewarded with an uncertain smile.  “Such a pity James is unavailable.  I could imagine him eloquently putting a few self-important academics in their place.  And he’d be a rather handsome addition to any soirée.  Although, you could still ask him, you know.”  She winked at Jean’s mild surprise.  “Robbie’s not the possessive jealous type.  He may even see it as good training for James.”  Laura was confident Jean would forgive any cheeky suggestions tonight.  It really was a rather excellent wine.  
  
Jean held her glass up, letting the light play along the edges.  “At the risk of sounding like a complete snob, I couldn’t have anyone less than a DI on my arm at most of these events.  After his assessment period, when he’s dropped the ‘acting’, perhaps then I’ll approach him about filling in for Mr Innocent.  He’d certainly turn heads in some circles, though possibly not for the right reasons.”  She glanced at Laura and gave an uncharacteristic giggle.  “At least no-one would be able to start any rumours about us.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Laura replied mischievously, earning an exasperated huff from Jean.   
  
Laura became thoughtful.  “If two people were ever born to complement and complete each other, it’s Robbie and James.”  She watched as Jean frowned, and waited for the inevitable question.  The alcohol was lowering the wall of reserve between them, and Laura was suddenly aware she wanted someone she could confide in, someone who would, hopefully, understand.  
  
“How does it all work, Laura?  I’ve heard you say it, but are you really happy?  You looked genuinely delighted for Robbie and James, but is everything as…  resolved as it appears to be?”  
  
Laura drank down half the wine in her glass.  “Yes,” she answered simply, still slightly hesitant to reveal more without invitation.  She liked Jean.  They were friends, but they weren’t intimate friends.  Laura felt they could be, but giving Jean a long explanation if she was only asking out of politeness wasn’t the way to further a friendship.  
  
Jean reached across and squeezed her hand where it rested on the arm of the chair.  “I’m not the only person who’s going to wonder,” she said gently.  “And whether or not others have the balls to ask you, the question is going to be there for a while.  Eventually it’ll slip below the surface, but until then…”  
  
Laura sighed, and leant forward to put her glass on the small round table in front of them.  She kept her other hand still, grateful for the contact with Jean.  “I know.  I wish there was a simple answer to satisfy everyone, but I have no doubt any explanation I gave would raise different questions for different people.”  She briefly gazed up at the ceiling, pulling her thoughts together.  “In a nutshell, by the time Robbie and I finally got together, it was too late.  We’d quite simply missed our moment, and what there was between us would have soon fizzled and died – with or without James’s presence.”  
  
Laura shifted in the chair until she was leaning towards Jean, and placed her other hand over Jean’s.  She spoke at a measured pace, each word carefully considered.  “I don’t expect anyone else to understand, unless they’ve been there themselves, but being with Robbie showed me things about myself I wouldn’t have otherwise learnt, and I’m grateful the split, as shocking as it was at the time, was sharp and clean.  Otherwise, we risked tiptoeing around each other, neither willing to admit we’d made a mistake for fear of hurting the other.  It could have become quite messy and bitter.  What happened wasn’t ideal, but I’ll defend Robbie’s actions to anyone – and James’s.  Robbie was open and honest and timely.  James has acted with honour and respect.  There’re always going to be those who believe Robbie cheated on me, or James stole him away – and that’s their prerogative – but unless they make their viewpoint known, it’s pointless mounting a general defence.”  
  
“Because the last thing you want is for them to start thinking ‘no smoke without fire’?”  
  
“Precisely.  I refuse to feed anyone’s misinformed opinions.”  Laura relaxed back into her chair, her fingers slipping off Jean’s.  “What is important is Robbie, James and I still have our friendship, and that’s worth putting up with petty-minded people for.”  
  
“Have you had to deal with much... curiosity now that you’re back at work?  I know it’s only been a day.”  
  
“My Path assistant – Christine…”  Laura waited for Jean’s acknowledgement she knew who Laura was referring to.  “She was giving me some very odd looks, but it was hectic today, far too busy for idle chit chat.  However I do expect to be pinned down at some point in the very near future.”  Laura gave a wry smile when Jean rolled her eyes.  Christine’s reputation as a bit of a mother hen preceded her.  “On the plus side, once Christine has the essential facts, I suspect she’ll be my staunchest defender.  As for anyone else, either at the hospital or the station, I think the best way is to not pre-empt anyone, and deal with them on a case by case basis.  I’m hoping there won’t be too many, but people are unpredictable.  Robbie and James took a gamble tonight, yet it seems to have paid off.”  
  
“Time will tell on that score,” Jean mused.  “Though with Peterson and myself fully in the picture, James shouldn’t have too much to worry about.”  
  
“James is more than capable of defending himself, if need be, Jean.”  
  
“Yes, he is.  But it won’t hurt for the wider station population to be aware he has allies.”  
  
Laura nodded her head.  Sitting forward, she carefully refilled both glasses, before toeing off her shoes and tucking her feet up in the chair.  
  
“I’ve found people’s reactions to the whole situation quite interesting so far.  My sister basically said, ’I warned you’, and she had.  Oh, not that Robbie would leave me for James, but simply that we didn’t have a future together.  She’d told me to give up on him years ago, that if we were meant to be it would have happened long before it did.  I didn’t want to admit she was right, so I was a bit short with her.  Ellen – Ellen Jacoby – was sympathetic, but not very supportive otherwise – things haven’t been the same since that dreadful business with the Corwins...  It was my cousin, Colin, who surprised me the most.  We were really close as kids, before his family moved to Kent, but we hadn’t seen a lot of each other in the past ten years or so.  He was actually the first person I spoke to as he happened to ring me the following weekend after Robbie had been down.  I ended up pouring out the whole story to him and he offered to stop in Oxford on his way back to Maidstone and ‘have a little word’ with Robbie.”  
  
“Oh my God,” Jean gasped, her eyes wide.  “What did you say?  You obviously didn’t take him up on his offer.  Did you?”  
  
“No.” Laura laughed softly, though she hadn’t exactly been laughing at the time.  “By that stage I’d worked through my anger and hurt.  I thanked him for his gallantry, and told him it wasn’t necessary, and tried to explain that while Robbie had wounded my pride, he hadn’t broken my heart.  That was a real moment of clarity for me.”  
  
Jean returned her hand to Laura’s arm.  “Anytime you feel you need to talk, you can call me.  I’m probably the last person who could, or should, give anyone relationship advice, but I’m very good at listening and bouncing ideas around.”  
  
Laura smiled brightly.  “Thank you.”  She raised her glass.  “To being single and the many freedoms and rewards it brings.”  
  
Jean touched her glass to Laura’s with a soft ‘chink’.  “Hear, hear.”

 

**********

 

Robbie checked his watch for the third time in fifteen minutes.  He was meeting Lyn and Tim for lunch before they headed home.  He knew they wanted to leave ahead of the Sunday evening traffic and the sooner they arrived, the longer they would have together.  
  
“Hi, dad.”  He turned at Lyn’s bright greeting, rising to kiss her cheek.  He shook Tim’s hand.  
  
“Where’s James?”  Lyn looked around the restaurant.  “I thought he was coming too?”  
  
“He got a call out.  He dropped me off on the way and sends his apologies.  I’m under strict instructions to make sure I give you a hug from him.”  He forced a brightness he wasn’t feeling.  
  
“Is everything okay, Dad?”  He’d known he wouldn’t get much past Lyn, but he wasn’t going to burden her with his concerns either.   
  
James was attending a suspicious death in Jericho.  It would be the first death he’d had to face since joining Peterson, and the first case he wouldn’t be able to discuss with Robbie.  It would be the first real test of James’s resolve, and Robbie would be there for him, to love, support and protect him as Val had done for him, and be his refuge.  Though he believed with all his heart James was more than strong enough to rise above the demons that had brought him close to leaving, it didn’t completely ease his concerns for James’s wellbeing.  Whatever decision James made, Robbie would be by his side.  
  
“It’s all fine, lass.  I’m just a bit disappointed ‘cause I knew James was looking forward to coming.”  He passed her a menu to avoid revealing anything further.  “Order up.  My treat.”  
  
***  
  
 “I still can’t quite believe you kissed James in front of all those people,” she murmured in his ear as she hugged him goodbye.  “My dad, the exhibitionist.”  
  
“Oi, that’s enough of your cheek, missy.”  He scolded her good-naturedly and held her tight.  “I knew what I was doing.”  
  
“Yes.  You did.”  She took a step back and appraised him.  A tear welled up in her eye, glistening like a small diamond.   
  
“Lyn?”  
  
She laid a hand against his arm and spoke softly.  “When you took up with Laura, it was – no disrespect to mum – it was a relief to know you were ready to move on.  I’d started to think you’d never make room for another person in your life, and it broke my heart to think of you always being alone.  Then we stayed with you and Laura, and it didn’t feel right, but I had to trust you knew what you were doing.  But this weekend, watching you with James… it was almost like watching you with mum.  You were meant to be together.”  
  
Robbie pulled her back into his arms, swallowing hard to remove the lump in his throat.  “I’ll never forget your mam, love, and no-one will ever replace her.”  
  
“I know, but what about James?  How does he feel about that?”  
  
“James understands and accepts it.”  Robbie pictured the photos on his bedside table.  “I think if James thought there was any possibility I would forget your mam now we’re together, he’d be furious with me.”  
  
Her words were slightly muffled as she pressed her face against him.  “You’ve been blessed, dad.  So many people never find love once.”  
  
“I know, pet.  I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was well after midnight when Robbie heard James arrive home.  He propped his head up when the bathroom light went on and it cast a dim glow through the open bedroom door.  He listened as James stripped off, muttering quietly to himself, though he could only make out a few random words.  From the sounds James made, and the soft plopping sound which Robbie presumed came from his clothes being dropped on the bathroom floor, Robbie deduced James and his clothes were soaked through.  James shuffled into the bedroom, hunched over and hugging himself, and crawled under the covers on Robbie’s side of the bed, forcing Robbie to shuffle back to make room for him.  
  
“Bloody hell, you’re freezing, man!”  Robbie jumped in fright as James wrapped his arms around him.  
  
“I know.  M’sorry.  It’s raining.”  
  
Raining was an understatement.  It had started pouring around six, and by seven there were reports of localised flash flooding.  He’d sent short texts to both Lyn and James and received a reply from Lyn almost immediately, saying they’d arrived at Tim’s parents’ just before the storm hit Manchester, and were going to spend the night there.  James’s reply didn’t arrive for another two hours.   
  
//Will be here for a while yet.  Ugly night.//  
  
Robbie had wished he could be sure James was talking about the weather.  
  
The rain was relentless, and Robbie had been unable to sleep.  It was his first taste of what nights must have been like for Val.  Only when he heard the sound of James’s key sliding into the lock did he let himself start to relax.  
  
Robbie braced himself and pulled James close, briskly rubbing his arms and back.  He hooked his leg over James’s thigh and pulled his lower body tightly to him.  Shivering, James buried his ice-cold face against Robbie’s neck, and Robbie couldn’t stop the hiss.  He bit his lip when James’s hands pushed up under his pyjama jacket and onto bare, warm skin.  
  
As James began to warm up, Robbie started to relax.  When James fell asleep, he kissed his forehead and let his head sink into the pillow.  Plenty of time to find out what was going on in James’s head tomorrow.  _If he’ll let me in._  
  
***  
  
James was already up and in the shower when Robbie woke.  He paused and listened at the bathroom door on his way to the kitchen.  James was humming in the shower.  It wasn’t bright or cheerful, but it wasn’t a dirge either.  _Can’t be all bad then?_   He recalled Lyn singing to herself when she was content, something she'd done since she was a wee tot.  It hit Robbie that, despite their years together and their intimacy now, he didn’t really know if James had any similar habits.  _Ask him?_   Robbie decided to play it by ear.  
  
When James walked into the kitchen, Robbie poured the water into the cafetière and put the bread in the toaster.  James stepped around the breakfast bar, took Robbie’s face gently between his palms and kissed him long and deep.  
  
“Good morning to you, too,” Robbie whispered breathlessly when James broke away.  “All’s well, then?”  Robbie watched for any tell-tale signs.  
  
“It’s all cut and dried bar the paperwork.  I suppose I can tell you.  No doubt, it’ll be a paragraph at the bottom of a column in tomorrow’s Mail, if not today’s.”  James dropped the hot toast onto his plate and blew on his fingers.  “It presented as a suicide.”  
  
Robbie held his breath, the memory of James’s face after he found Adam Tibbit etched in his memory, but there was no hesitation or distress in James’s body language.  
  
“We even found a rather baffling note in his pocket which was eventually deciphered by his brother.  As kids, they’d made up their own codes and that was what he’d used.  Long story short, the note and the forensic examination added up to accidental death due to autoerotic asphyxiation.  Turns out he had a history of it – admitted twice to the JR.”  
  
Robbie let his breath out slowly hoping James wouldn’t notice.  James fixed him with a gentle stare.  
  
“You want to know why I was so late and if I’m all right, don’t you?”  
  
“And why you were soaked to the skin?  I’ll bet your clothes are still sodden this morning, aren’t they?  You were half-frozen when you came to bed.”  
  
“I’m fine.  Really.  It was nothing like...  you know.”  James bit into his toast, chewed slowly and swallowed.  “We spent most of the afternoon trying to identify the victim, who had no ID on him.  We finally got a name when tech support was able to access the data on his phone, and from there we were able to locate and contact his brother.  We then had to wait for him to arrive from Liverpool for a formal ID.  Peterson tried to convince him to wait until today, but the brother wouldn’t have it.  Not surprisingly, he was delayed by the rain.  But we got there in the end.”  His head jerked up.  His eyes were wide with concern.  “Did Lyn and Tim get home okay?”  
  
Robbie blinked at the change in direction.  “Aye.  You still haven’t explained why you were so wet?”  
  
“I didn’t have my raincoat, and I stopped twice to help push stalled cars off the road before they were the cause of an accident.”  As if to underline his annoyance, James sneezed violently three times.   
  
“Try and stay warm and dry today, will ya?”  Robbie passed over the box of tissues.  “Last thing you want is to come down with a raging cold or the flu.  As our Lyn’ll tell you, my bedside manner’s pretty average.”  
  
James grinned slowly.  “That’s okay.  I prefer your ‘in-bed’ manner instead.”

 

**********

 

With the case closed, and Peterson and James back at the bottom of the rotation, Robbie and James made plans to spend the following weekend inspecting more homes for sale.  
  
They argued in the car after the first one, a semi-detached off the Banbury Road on the edge of Summertown.  James wanted to make an offer; however, Robbie dug his heels in.  While the house met all their criteria the price was close to their upper limit, but James was confident they could manage it.  
  
“Yes, it’s at the high end of our preferred range, but we wouldn’t exactly be overstretching ourselves either.  There’s nothing to do in the garden, except maybe add a swing set, and it would be years before we had to consider any renovations or improvements.”  James was baffled.  “Why are you wary all of a sudden?  You were keen to look at this one.  What’s changed your mind?” he asked gently.  He’d been aware of the shift in Robbie’s mood as they’d looked through the house.  
  
“The future.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“It suddenly hit me we’ve approached house-hunting with the assumption you’ll be staying in the police force until you retire.  I hate the thought of you feeling you were locked into policing because of the home we chose.  I don’t know why we hadn’t considered it before.  I believe you can find your way again, and I know you believe it, too, but what if one day you simply decide enough’s enough?  My pension wouldn’t be sufficient to meet the mortgage repayments on a mortgage of that size, even in the short term – not unless we both stopped eating – and there’s no guarantee you’d find something else straightaway.  Going back to University probably wouldn’t be a viable option either.  When we find a place, I’d like to know you’d be free to change your career if you chose to.”  
  
“Oh.”  James stared out of the windscreen, not focusing on anything as he thought through Robbie’s reasoning.  Robbie’s nest egg could buy them a property outright – if they were prepared to lower their criteria or look in a less desirable area – but to get anything close to what they both wanted, a mortgage of some description was inevitable, if only to allow them to keep some money in the bank as insurance against a future need.  
  
“May I see the list again, please?”  James held out his hand for the print-out of the properties they’d chosen to look at over the two days.  In his excitement and joy at the prospect of a real home, James hadn’t fully considered the long-term implications of a mortgage, which he now saw as a major failing on his part.  The longest financial commitment James had ever had to that point was his credit card, which he only used in emergencies.  He admitted to himself he had primarily considered how many working years he had ahead of him, and not what he would be doing during those years.  Robbie had a point.  They could look at a lower mortgage and still find what they wanted, as the list proved.  He quickly crossed out two of the remaining properties and handed the paper back to Robbie.  “I’ll review the saved lists and brochures we have, see if there are any we should take off.  Maybe I will stay with the police, maybe I won’t, but it’ll be nice to have the choice.”  
  
Robbie’s answering expression was one of relief and happiness.  He looked over the list.  “Well, since the next one’s now off the table, what say we go and get a coffee somewhere?”  
  
James glanced at the address of the third property.  “I know just the place.  There’s a small row of shops just around the corner from there, including a very good cafe – or so DI Peterson informs me.”  
  
“How does he know?”  
  
“When he first arrived in Oxford he rented a flat above it.”  James caught Robbie’s anxious glance and chuckled.  “He lives out in Wolvercote now.  I like the guy, but there’s a very good reason why there are no Wolvercote properties on any of the lists.”  
  
“I’d wondered about that.  Right, let’s get going then.”  
  
***  
  
The first property they looked at on Sunday was a three bed terrace home in Old Marston.  They were both keen, but opted to look at the remaining properties before making a decision.  After leaving the last property they stopped briefly outside the pub, before choosing to pick up a takeaway and head home instead.  
  
Hunched over the coffee table, they carefully considered the two properties which had excited both of them most.  
  
“We don’t have to make a decision this weekend.”  Robbie gathered up the empty containers.  “There’s still time on the lease, and there’re a couple of other properties for sale in the same area next weekend we could take a look at if you’re free.”  
  
James sat back on the couch.  “Do you believe a place can ‘feel’ right?  Because I think this one did.”  He flicked the paper he had in his hand and held it up for Robbie to see.  
  
Robbie put the rubbish in the bin and came back for the plates.  “Val would have said so.  I’ve always thought it a bit of a fanciful notion meself, but I know what you mean about that one.”  
  
“It would be lower maintenance in the long run.”  James sat forward eagerly.  “The kitchen and bathroom are barely a year old, and the garden will be easy to care for, too.  Yes, the Marston property is better located, and it’s bigger, but it’s possibly going to need some major work in a few years.”  
  
Robbie sat down and leant into James.  He held out his hand and as James gave him the print-out Robbie draped his other arm across James’s shoulder.  Robbie looked over the details of the neat three bedroom, semi-detached house located in Headington, not too far from Magdalen Wood.  They both liked the area and had been annoyed to miss out on a terrace house about half-a-mile away during the early weeks of their house hunting; by the time they’d called the agent, an offer had already been accepted by the owner.  
  
Of all the houses they’d looked at in recent weeks, this one stood out.  It wasn’t perfect.  There was only one bathroom, located upstairs, but it was spacious, and the third bedroom was considerably smaller than the other two.  It wasn’t the biggest or the newest, and others had been more conveniently located, but James was right, even if Robbie wasn’t entirely comfortable admitting it out loud, it had felt right.  Robbie suddenly knew for certain he would be very disappointed if they missed out on this one.  
  
James twisted, swinging his legs across Robbie’s lap.  He laid his head on Robbie’s shoulder and Robbie let his arm fall down and around James’s waist.  
  
“What are you thinking?”  James murmured.  
  
“It is a good house, and I think we could make it fine home.”  
  
“We’re going for it?”  James lifted his head.  
  
“I’ll call the agent tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

James’s phone rang as he started the last of the monthly reports.  
  
“D’you think you can get down to the estate agent’s by four?”  James snapped to attention at the urgency in Robbie’s voice.  “There’s already an offer in on house but the owner’s willing to look at ours if we can get it in today.  They’ve requested it in writing, with both our signatures, and the agent wants a clear hour to get it completed and signed.”  
  
James glanced at the clock and the open file.  “Give me the address again.  I’ll be there.”  
  
***  
  
The traffic was horrendous.  James ran the mile from where he managed to park the car to the agents.  His chest was tight, his heart pounded and his hands shook.  It wasn’t simply the exertion of the run.  He was as nervous as hell.  Kissing Robbie for the first time hadn’t left him in this state.  Realising he was going to commit his life to Robbie had brought him close, but it had been balanced by great joy.  He wasn’t just nervous, he was bloody terrified.  It didn’t make a lot of sense.  
  
He reached the agents at five to four.  Robbie was pacing in front of the window.  When James touched his arm Robbie jumped and swore.  
  
“Are you okay?”  James’s first thought was he was too late and the owner had changed their mind.  
  
“Yeah, I, ah...”  Robbie wiped his hands on his jacket.  “Just a bit on edge that’s all.”  
  
“Thank God, it’s not just me.”  James had spoken to himself, though not quietly enough.  
  
Robbie gripped his shoulder.  “Ah, there’s nothing wrong with feeling nervous.  It’s a big commitment and a new start.”  
  
James calmed a little at Robbie’s touch and pushed his shoulders back.  He held his head high.  
  
“C’mon, James.”  Robbie took his elbow.  “Let’s get in and get this done.  With a bit of luck we won’t have to do it again.”

 

**********

 

Robbie took the call at ten in the morning two days later.  
  
“Thank you.  No, no need to call Mr Hathaway, I can do that.”  
  
Robbie sat down on the stool.  Looking down at his chest, he could see the faint tremor in the fabric of his shirt as his heart pounded in his chest.  He dialled James’s mobile.  
  
“We need to make another appointment with the mortgage broker.  Our offer’s been accepted.  And I need the details for the conveyancer.”  
  
Only the soft static told Robbie he still had a connection.  
  
“James.”  
  
“Just checking the calendar and the duty rosters.”  The sudden tapping of a keyboard wasn’t enough to hide the small shake in James’s voice.  “Is it really ours?”  
  
“There’s still a bit to go.  We have to get the mortgage approved, there’s a range of legal issues the conveyancer deals with, and then there’s the exchange of contracts,  but barring any unforeseen circumstances, it should be ours in three months, maybe less.  The owner took our offer principally because there’s no property chain.”  Robbie heard James’s soft exhale.  
  
“Right.”  Robbie swore he heard James’s mask come down.  Whatever he’d been feeling was under control and he was all business.  “I can probably make anything this week, though we’re supposed to be in court this Friday unless CPS hit a stumbling block.  The conveyancer’s details are in the pale blue folder on the shelf next to the atlas.  You can’t miss it.”  
  
Robbie glanced at the shelf in question.  “I see it.  I’ll call you back when I’ve got a day and time.  Bye, James.”  
  
“Bye, Robbie.”  The faint tremor was back.  
  
“Oh, and James...”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I love you.”

 

**********

 

The rest of the week passed in an odd sort of blur.  Later, Robbie would only clearly remember the various appointments he’d had to keep.  James had been able to attend the first, most critical, meeting with the mortgage broker, but wasn’t able to attend any others when the murder of a drug dealer demanded his full attention.  
  
“I’m sorry I can’t be available to do more,” James apologised as he signed a second sheaf of papers Robbie had brought home from another appointment.  
  
“Don’t be daft, lad.  What else is the benefit of retiring, if not to have the time to do all of this?  It’s about time I did me own paperwork.  Years of doing Morse’s reports, getting you to do mine.  It’s only fair.”  He’d ruffled James’s hair deliberately, getting the annoyed grin he’d hoped for.  “Anyway, these are the last, then we have to wait on the bank – if you want to fret, that’s the time to do it.”  
  
James had looked up, confused.  “Why?  The mortgage is agreed in principle, and we’re asking for a figure well below what the broker indicated we could get on my salary.”  
  
Robbie smiled fondly.  “Because the bank’s the one who’s going to make you wait the longest for an answer.  You’ll reach a point where you wonder if it really is going to be as straightforward as you think it should be.  You’ll see.”

 

**********

 

For several nights in a row, James was quiet.  It was the silence that grew from over-thinking, though Robbie didn't recognise it immediately.  James was there with Robbie, and he wasn't.  They would cuddle on the couch, and James would kiss back without hesitation, but something was missing.  In bed, his lovemaking was considerate, but Robbie felt as though James was merely going through the motions.  He knew James and Peterson had recently finalised their current case and suspected that was the cause of his discontent, not waiting to hear from the bank.  
  
James lay with his head in Robbie's lap.  It was his favoured position when they were watching telly.  James would lie on his side while Robbie ran his fingers through his hair, and traced patterns with his fingers along James's side.  This night, Robbie had been very aware of the tightness in James's shoulders.  
  
“James, love, is everything okay?"  
  
"Mmm hmm," was the mumbled reply, as non-committal as everything else James had said that night.  
  
Robbie tried again.  
  
"Is there something about your last case that's bothering you?"  
  
With a soft grunt, James pushed himself up, swinging his feet to the floor.  He shuffled across in the seat until he was leaning into Robbie's shoulder.  He shook his head.  
  
"One drug dealer kills another.  Two parasites off the street without any further casualties.  It was a good result."  
  
"James."  Robbie sighed patiently and wrapped an arm around James's shoulder.  "That’s not what I was asking."  
  
"I’ve left it outside the door.  It has no place here."   He started to kiss Robbie’s neck.  
  
"But it is here, pet."  Robbie gently pushed James away until he could see his face.  "I know you, and I can tell your mind’s not completely here.  Whatever's bothering you is in between us."  
  
James’s jaw twitched.  
  
Robbie cradled the back of James's neck, lightly stroking his thumb along his jaw.  "James, I do know what the job’s like," he murmured.  "I didn’t forget everything when I retired."  
  
James straightened his back and squared his shoulders.  "This is what I wanted to do, Robbie.  Leave the case at the door, at the office.  You agreed it could help."  
  
"And it will."  Robbie kept his voice patient and kind; pushing against James when he was being stubborn wasted energy on both sides and achieved nothing.  With James, it was better to plant a seed and let him work through it.  "But you don’t simply decide to shut it out and hope it stays out.  It’ll take time, and it won’t always be smooth sailing, even once you think you’ve conquered it."  
  
James frowned.   “Is that supposed to be encouraging?”  
  
“No.  It’s realistic.  Encouraging is telling you it’s okay to fail, that the world won’t end and neither will you.  Encouraging is making sure you remember I’m here and you can lean on me when it feels too hard.”  
  
“I’m fine,” James responded, his jaw tight.  “I will be fine.”  He slumped slightly.  “Could we maybe go to bed now?  I’m suddenly very tired.”  
  
Robbie stood up and held a hand out to James.  
  
Silently they walked into the bedroom.  James appeared to fall asleep quickly, though Robbie wasn't entirely convinced he was.  He watched the steady rise and fall of James's chest and wondered if he really was ‘fine’.

 

**********

 

Robbie was alone when woke in the morning.  Even Monty had deserted him.  He couldn't remember falling asleep.  He did know he'd watched James lie motionless until after midnight, which convinced him James wasn't sleeping.  Once he was asleep, James invariably ended up wrapped around Robbie, no matter what mood he'd gone to bed in, or whether or not they'd made love.  
  
The sound of sizzling bacon reached him seconds before the aroma.  Robbie made his way to the kitchen via the bathroom.  
  
"Morning, James.  What’s this, then?  Sunday breakfast?" he asked lightly, leaning against the breakfast bar.  "Last time I checked, today was Thursday."  
  
James glanced around with a meek smile.  "It’s an apology."  
  
James tone indicated there was more, and Robbie waited as James added eggs to the frying pan.  
  
“I’m still not used to having someone who’s worried about me, for me, about what I feel.  And not just being concerned, but wanting to do something about it.  I’m not very good at letting myself lean on others.  I think I am with you, but I’m not.  Not yet.”  
  
Robbie came up behind him.  “I’m sorry if you feel I've been trying to make you.  It was never my intention."  
  
James took the frying pan off the burner and faced Robbie.  “Will you let me find my own way through this?”  
  
It wasn't what Robbie had hoped, but it wasn’t as though James was a troubled teen in search of guidance.  Robbie had to.  “I promise I’ll try, but I can't switch off how I feel.   You'll have to let me know if I’m treading on your toes.”  
  
James took Robbie's face between his palms and kissed him softly.  "I promise."

 

**********

 

 “Why do banks have to take so bloody long to do anything?” James muttered frustratedly, putting the last pot onto the drying rack.  Robbie’s words had proved to be true.  They were into the second week after the offer had been accepted and the silence from the bank was beginning to become oppressive to James.  
  
“Look on the bright side, pet.  At least they haven’t come back looking for more information or documentation.  Lyn and Tim had a nightmare time when they were purchasing their wee place a couple of years back.  But I did warn you.”  
  
James puffed out his cheeks.  “Yes, you did.  I’m obviously not as patient as I thought I was.”  
  
Robbie stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist.  “You waited patiently enough for me to wake up.”  He spoke softly into James’s ear.  James shivered and tipped his head back.  
  
“I did, didn’t I?”  He gasped as Robbie nibbled a line up the side of his neck.  
  
“My turn to distract you, I think.”  Robbie chuckled.  “Are you about done here?”  Robbie resumed his survey of James’s neck and collarbone.

 

**********

 

James hung up the phone and exhaled heavily.  He covered his face with his hands and wished he could rewind the last thirty seconds.   Wiping his hands down his face, he pushed against the desk and got to his feet.  He’d made the call, now he _had_ to go through with it.  
  
  
  
James knocked at the door.  He pushed it opened at the muffled response and peeked into the room.  Laura was next to the small worktop which passed as a kitchen in pathology.  On the small sink sat two unmatched mugs which Laura was filling from slightly battered kettle.  
  
“James?”  She twisted around to look at him.  “Come in.  Cuppa’s nearly ready.”  
  
“Dr Hobson,” James acknowledged respectfully.  
  
“James.”  The gentle reminder in her words was clear.  
  
“Laura.”  James took the offered mug with a smile.  
  
“Better.”  She touched his elbow and guided him towards an empty chair.  “How long do you think you have?”  
  
“Twenty minutes.  Half an hour at most.”  James put his mug on the small table when he sat down.  
  
Laura settled herself in a chair opposite him.  “I have to admit I was surprised by your call, but I’m happy to help in any way I can.  You sounded a little... worried.”  
  
James wasn’t sure how to begin.  Talking about his feelings was so unfamiliar.  He’d never been encouraged to as a child or young adult, at home or at school.  By the time he went up to Cambridge he’d become an expert in internalising and masking how he felt.  Even with Robbie, very little had changed, and Robbie had never pushed him to express how he felt about anything, letting James reveal himself when he felt comfortable.  
  
But now, right at the time he had committed to himself to leave work outside their home, he found he didn’t really know how to separate from his emotions.  He could leave the paperwork, and the evidence, he could block out the interviews, but he couldn’t block the feelings they left him with.  
  
James felt his stomach fall.  Laura was watching him patiently, and a little curiously.  
  
“I want our home to be a haven,” he eventually said.  “I try not to talk about work at home, and I don’t take work home with me.  But it’s always in my head.  Robbie’s told me he can tell when it’s there.  I can remember most of the details of every case I’ve been involved with, from my stint in uniform through to today.  And I don’t want to.”  
  
As James had spoken, Laura’s curious expression had changed to one of puzzlement.  
  
“Of course it’s in your head, James,” she said gently.  “You wouldn’t be as effective in your job as you are if you could let the facts go just like that.”  She clicked her fingers.  “You can’t change how your brain works.  But it’s not the cases that are the problem, is it?  It’s how they leave you emotionally.”  
  
James took a large mouthful of his tea.  It was just like Laura to get to the heart of a matter so quickly.  He nodded, motioning to her to keep going.  
  
Laura held her mug with both hands and sipped carefully.  “I know you can’t talk about the cases with Robbie, and I can understand why you don’t want to, but surely you can let him know how they make you feel?  Robbie’s now your life partner, James.  If you can’t be open about your emotions with him, you could both be in a bit of trouble.”  
  
James felt a small flutter of panic.  That was a possibility he’d considered.  
  
“James – tell me to shut up if I’m being too nosy – how did you and Robbie handle the aftermath of cases when you were working together?”  
  
James shrugged.  “We’d talk about the case while we were investigating, then review it afterwards.  We’d have a pint and share a takeaway.  Sometimes, if there were a few drinks downed, I’d stay and sleep on the couch.”  He dropped his voice to a murmur.  “And there were times when I’d fish for an invitation to stay because I didn’t want to... be alone.”  
  
“You and Robbie had some brutal cases.”  Laura was gentle.  “Did you ever talk about how they made you feel?”  
  
James hesitated, his mouth opening and closing several times before he spoke.  “There were a couple of cases where Robbie…”  He wanted to say ‘pushed’ but he knew that was harsh.  “…encouraged me to get things off my chest.  Though most of time… not really.”  
  
“And Robbie?  What did he do?”   
  
James shrank under Laura’s pained gaze.  “I don’t know,” he whispered.  “I always assumed he kept it inside, like I did.”  
  
Laura took James’s hand between her own.  James focused on the warmth of her skin, and the soothing way she stroked his hand with her thumbs.  
  
“James, leaving a case outside the door or at work doesn't mean bottling up your anger or hurt.  Robbie was a police officer for a long time.  He’s been a husband and a father, and he's an incredibly patient man.  Most importantly, he loves you.  As long as it's clear he's not the source or target of your frustration, he'll put up with a lot.  But if he's ever the source or target you need to tell him that too... though not by ranting at him.”  
  
James was unsure.  “Laura, we don’t ‘do’ feelings.”  
  
“You don’t have to do anything except be honest with each other.  How’s Robbie supposed to know he’s not making you feel worse if he doesn’t know how you feel about something?  You have to tell people how you feel.”  
  
James bit his bottom lip and was about to protest again when Laura fixed him with a stare.  He may not have been good at expressing emotions, but he was fairly good at reading them, and he could tell Laura was getting a little frustrated with him even though she kept her voice gentle and calm.  
  
“James, have you ever witnessed a teenage girl in full fury at her parents?”  
  
“Not... really.”  He stretched out both words, unsure of where she was heading.  
  
“Well, Robbie has.  And if he's survived a hormonal teenage girl, there's little else you could throw at him that he hasn't seen before.”  
  
Laura now held both of his hands.  
  
“James, I've been doing my job for longer than I care to admit to.  I only have to deal with the dead and the bereaved.  I’m not facing aggression and arrogance, selfishness and pride on a regular basis like you do, but I still strike cases that follow me home.  I have days where I scream into a pillow, or drink half a bottle of wine within an hour of walking through the door.  James, sometimes you'll have to take it home, if only because venting about it in safety and privacy is the only way to come to terms with it.  And if, at the end of the day, you still can’t see yourself unburdening to Robbie, there are other ways: you could scream into a pillow or drink, like I do, you could keep a journal, you could run – or row.  There’re many safe ways to give a voice to how the job makes you feel.”  
  
James nodded slowly.  He could see the simple wisdom in Laura’s words, but the thought of pulling Robbie into the emotional mess his head could be still left his heart feeling heavy.  
  
“James, Robbie's seen it all; he's had to deal with it all, from over-entitled self-important academic twats to rapists and murderers.  I doubt there’s anything you could say to him that he hasn’t said or thought himself, and there's very little you could reveal to him that would be new.”  
  
James arched one eyebrow and Laura slapped his arm gently.  “Of an emotional nature, James.”  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
“Use Robbie’s years of wisdom and experience to help and guide you.  Bottling up the anger or frustration, or whichever feeling it is, isn’t healthy, and at the end of the day you risk pushing Robbie away.  Whether you chose to tell him how you feel, or find another avenue to address your emotions, you do need to let him in.  You and Robbie need to be on the same page, James, and Robbie needs to know you’re not putting yourself in harm’s way.”  
  
James squeezed her hands.  He was thankful he’d called Laura, but he still had some thinking to do.  
  
“Thank you,” he murmured, and leant forward to kiss her cheek.

**********

 

Robbie ended the call with the bank as the message came through from James.  
  
//Bank’s emailed.  Everything’s approved :)  Your line was busy.  Call me.  J xx//  
  
Robbie laughed quietly to himself and called.  
  
James skipped the usual greetings.  
  
“You’ve been on the phone for a while.  I tried to call three times.  How’s Lyn?”  
  
 _Lyn?_  Robbie took a second to decipher James’s question.  “Oh, I wasn’t talking to Lyn, love.  The bank was instructed to call me and email you – easiest way to get any messages through.  Anyway, we’ve the formal offer of advance to sign and there’re some other forms to be completed before the process can continue.  I remembered you said you were close to wrapping up your case, so I’ve made a tentative appointment for tomorrow afternoon, but if you can’t make it then there’s an available appointment time on Monday afternoon.”  
  
James next words were heavily muffled so Robbie knew he’d covered the phone with his hand.  Robbie caught his last words to Peterson as James came back to the call.  
  
“...thanks, sir.  Tomorrow’s fine, Robbie.  It’ll be good to have this all wrapped up.  I should be home in couple of hours.  Bye.”  
  
James, never comfortable taking personal calls at work, hung up before Robbie could say anything further.  Robbie stared thoughtfully at the silent phone.  As much as he loved hearing James use his name, it still felt strange to hear James call Peterson ‘sir’.  It had been Robbie’s ‘name’ for so many years he’d expected James to still occasionally use it from time to time, but he never had, not even when he was being particularly snarky or facetious.  Robbie was surprised by how much he missed it.

 

**********

 

James called his property manager as soon as they left the conveyancer’s office.  The fortnight’s wait between the approval of finance and today had dragged.  Now, with the contracts exchanged, they had a time-frame for their move and he wanted to give notice on his flat immediately.  
  
“Thank you.  I’ll have to double-check with my partner, but if it’s at all possible, I think we’d really appreciate it.”  James slipped his phone into his other jacket pocket and glanced across at Robbie.  
  
“Do you think we could pack and move within a fortnight of the completion date?”  
  
Robbie’s eyes flicked towards him and swiftly back at the growing snarl of peak hour traffic.  
  
“I don’t see why not.  It’s not as though we’re packing up a big house.  We could probably have most of it packed up before then.  Why?”  
  
“The agent still has to talk to the owner, but we may get away with a shortened notice period.  He’s confident he’ll have no problem re-letting quickly _if_ we’re willing to allow a viewing sometime in the next four weeks, and can guarantee to be out, and have the flat cleaned, by the thirty-first of next month.  Otherwise we’ll be looking another full month’s rent.”  
  
With the notice period James had been required to give they’d known there would be an overlap between paying rent and starting mortgage repayments and, while they’d determined they could afford the additional payments, any opportunity to lessen their commitment would be welcomed.  
  
“Did he give you an idea when he’d know?  I could book us a van, and organise boxes and start packing tomorrow if that’s the case.”  
  
“He’ll let me know by close of business tomorrow at the latest, but he’s hopeful of getting an answer tonight.”  
  
  
  
The agent called as they were settling in to watch telly.  James had been sitting cross-legged on the couch, flicking through their copies of the paperwork.  Robbie watched James’s face and knew the outcome before James ended the call.  
  
James looked well pleased.  “Any idea where you might pick up some packing boxes tomorrow?”  
  
“Laura had a load in the garden shed last time I looked.  I’ve no idea where she got them from or why she’s kept them, but I’ll ask her if we can use them.  If not, the self-storage place sells them.”  Robbie flashed a grin.  “Well, that’s my day sorted, then.”  
  
Robbie looked around the flat.  “I’ve never asked.  How much of the furniture is yours and how much came with the flat?”  
  
“Everything except the fridge freezer and the washer dryer are mine, although it’s all pretty worn now, and most of it was second hand.”  
  
Robbie thumped the arm of the couch.  “Still, it’s got enough life in it to last us until we decide what we want.  Unless you’d fancy replacing all or some of it when we move?  I’ve no strong preference either way.”  
  
“I’ve been thinking about that.”  James put his feet on the floor and moved so he was sitting under Robbie’s outstretched arm which lay across the back of the couch.  “The main priority is a fridge freezer: according to the offer documentation the washer dryer comes with the house and, like here, the kitchen has a breakfast bar – and we’ve got bar stools – so we wouldn’t need a dining table and chairs immediately, either.  I think I’d prefer to move with what we’ve got, live in the house for a bit, get a feel for what we need, and then go out and buy.  Another option is to go somewhere like Ikea or Harveys and buy a house full of matching furniture in flatpacks.”  He screwed up his face at the same time as Robbie and they both laughed.  
  
“It’s going to be a fairly straightforward move, I’d say.”  Robbie pulled James close.  “Though I’m not looking forward to carting boxes full of your books – they’re going to weigh a bloody ton.”  
  
James punched his arm lightly.  “It can’t be any worse than those boxes of yours.  Oh, there’s a thought – did you want to empty out your storage unit at the time of the move or after?  And what about Monty?  The moving process is going to upset him a bit too.”  
  
Robbie sank into the couch.  The absence of a property chain on either their part or the vendor’s had shortened the usual time frame slightly, and Robbie had anticipated at least a full calendar month on notice before they moved.  He’d estimated eight to nine weeks between the exchange of contracts and moving day.  That had now been cut to six, and they had a lot to organise in that time.  On the plus side, he had more than enough time to get most of the work done, which would allow James to have some down time rather than being constantly on the go.  It would also provide more time than he’d originally estimated between the move and James’s exam.  Once they were in the house – their home – they could re-establish some sort of routine and James could get back to his OSPRE studies.  The lad was bright, but that wasn’t going to help him if he missed out on studying any of the key components.  
  
“Got pen and paper handy?  Might as well get all this down in writing.  Right, what’s first?”


	4. Chapter 4

To Robbie’s astonishment and relief, after they’d worked through the details of the move, James had voluntarily relinquished all control in making the arrangements to Robbie.  They also agreed that if, for any reason, something arose that would cause a significant change in their plans, they would discuss it before any further action was taken.  Robbie didn’t anticipate any obstacles or disruptions, but he was adamant nothing would occur without James’s full knowledge and agreement.  It was the outcome Robbie had hoped for, though, being aware how much James liked to be in control of any decisions affecting him, he had been prepared to argue as to why he was perfectly capable of taking on the lion’s share.   
  
When Robbie quietly stated his preferred way of handling the move, James had handed over his neatly hand-written notes.  
  
“I’ll do my share of the packing and try to book a couple of days leave either side of the weekend we move.  Everything else I’m more than happy to leave it in your hands, unless there’s anything specific you’d like me to do.”  
  
In turn, Robbie, after leaving James flushed, breathless and with kiss-swollen lips, promised not to burden him with trivial details, or mention his exam until after the move.  
  
James had suggested various online options Robbie could investigate, all of which Robbie had tactfully ignored.  While it meant a bit of running around, Robbie preferred face to face interactions.  He’d felt justified when his trip to the storage facility to get boxes – Laura’s gardener had cleaned out the shed, disposing of the ones she had, to her great annoyance – had resulted in locating a nearby cattery where he booked Monty in to stay for the weekend of the move.  
  
***  
  
Robbie kept an eye on James during the build-up to the move.  He knew from experience, both recently and in the past, how stressful moving could be, and was very conscious of the added burden their short time frame could bring.  James was also dealing with being back in CID and working on separating the pressures and influences of each case from his own feelings and objectivity.  
  
Since Robbie’s retirement, James and Peterson had already dealt with an accidental death, a homicide, and two cases of GBH.  As he’d promised to do, James had made a conscious effort to bring nothing home, yet Robbie had sensed he hadn’t fully been able to leave everything behind at work.  He was realistic enough to know it wouldn’t happen quickly, and there was a chance it may not happen at all.  
  
There had been times when James had been… not distracted, more preoccupied.  On few occasions Robbie had had the impression James had wanted to say something, but had instead gone into a dark, closed mood, firmly determined to keep Robbie at arms’ length.  Initially Robbie was at a loss when James shut him out.  
  
Robbie knew he’d been blessed with Val.  He was in uniform when he and Val had married, and the day to day cases he’d been involved in were relatively easy to cast off before he headed home.  Val’s love and constancy had been a shield which had grown stronger with time, and deepened with the arrival of first Lyn, then Mark.  As Robbie had moved through the ranks, and his career – as a detective constable, into Vice, promotion to detective sergeant, and the transfer to Oxford – his ability to leave it at the door had grown in steady increments.  He’d lost much of that when Val died.  Carrying his work home with him became something he’d used to fend off the emptiness in his house and his heart.  
  
He realised now that he’d slowly begun to rebuild his defences at work when James became the new constant in his life.  It hadn’t been entirely the same, but his twenty-plus years with Val had given him a solid grounding to fall back on, and the familiarity and presence of James had brought it to the fore again.  Under Val’s careful nurturing, Robbie had learnt to recognise and deal with his feelings as they arose, saving his strongest reactions for when he could be alone – usually in the shower, or sitting on the kids’ swing set in the dark of night – and seeking Val’s comfort when he was spent.  Without Val by his side, he’d sought comfort in her memory, hearing her voice tell him everything would be okay, the sun would rise and set, the clouds would disappear, and she would always love him.  
  
On those nights when he and James had wrapped a case, and James would join him in the flat for a meal and whatever was on the telly, he’d been able to start to forget the nastiness, see beyond the bitterness and anger in those they’d been dealing with, and start to see the glimmer of goodness underneath.  All too often the ugliness was merely a mask to hide the pain and loss, and it was something he understood all too well.   
  
While he and James had discussed their cases, berating or praising those they’d encountered along the way as appropriate, they’d only talked about how it left them emotionally in a handful of cases, most notably the attempted suicide of Babs Temple, the abduction and attempted murder of Laura, and Simon Monkford.  There had been others that Robbie had hoped to pursue, specifically the death of Will McEwan and the turmoil wrought by Zoe Kenneth, and the events at Crevecoeur, but James had made it very clear they were off-limits.  
  
Very belatedly, Robbie understood he had presumed James had had a similar method to himself for dealing with the more unpleasant aspects of their work.  Robbie assumed James, had he gone on to become a priest, would have been expected to listen to and counsel others, bearing, even temporarily, their pain, confusion, anger and guilt, and would have learnt or been taught various ways to handle that burden.  Was it part of the reason James had left the seminary, because he’d recognised he would struggle with that aspect?  Robbie couldn’t know for certain, and nor would he ask James.  That was another area of James’s life that was still off-limits to all.  One day, Robbie kept telling himself, one day it may all come out, but for now he knew it was best to let things be.  
  
Robbie eventually wanted to be to James what Val had been to him.  Even more, he wanted to know if James was beginning to see the good in others again, even just the tiniest flash, but struggled to know where to begin.  He’d begun to think back over past conversations with Laura and before too long he’d heard her voice saying, _“Listen to him, Robbie, and trust to what you know of James.  You’ll figure it out as you go.”_  
  
Robbie avoided reminding James he was the one who’d wanted to see if he could leave things at the door.  Even the slightest hint of a suggestion he thought James was struggling with it was a sure-fire way to get him to close down completely.  However, if James’s empathy and sympathy wouldn’t allow him to let go of his cases, then maybe he did need to step away from the job – not that Robbie was going to say that to him either.  Ultimately, whatever James did had to be the result of his own awareness, becoming his decision, and his alone.  Robbie could offer suggestions as he’d done before, and James was free to consider or discard them.  In the meantime, Robbie tried to do what he could to assure James they were okay, regardless of what happened.  He still struggled to find the words.  
  
One night in bed, after James’s lovemaking had verged on desperate and frantic – an act of release rather than affection – Robbie enfolded James and let his heart speak.  
  
“Just because we don’t _talk_ doesn’t mean I can’t listen while you talk.  No-one, least of all me, is expecting you to be a saint or a martyr.  If you feel like you need to swear or rant at someone you can’t touch, then let it out here.  I’ll know it’s not personal, I’ll not bite back and I’ll not hold it against you.  Get it off your chest, pet, don’t let it simmer and stew.  I want _my_ James here in my arms, in our bed, not the James you think the world is expecting to see.”  
  
James didn’t rant or swear, but his shoulders lost the tightness he’d been carrying for several weeks.   
  
  
  
James lay quietly in Robbie's arms as strong hands caressed his back, increasing his sense of security and well-being.  Laura had been right.  It would take something unimaginable for him to alienate Robbie.  Even so, James was still conflicted.  There were parts of the job he had no difficulty leaving behind – the bare facts, the physical evidence, and the paperwork.  What he struggled with was the hurt of those left in the wake of a crime, the arrogance and ignorance of the perpetrators, and his own frustrations at how little he could practically do for those who crossed his path.  And then there were the damn do-gooder lawyers, social workers, and psychiatrists who argued for diminished responsibility.  An unhappy childhood wasn't always an excuse.  James hadn't necessarily come completely to terms with his own, but he had risen above it, and without the aid of social workers or psychologists.  Perhaps he'd been lucky, but James didn't believe so.  He'd made a conscious decision to not let the past dictate his future.  He was infuriated by those who wouldn't take personal responsibility.   James couldn’t let himself pour all that onto Robbie, no matter what Robbie said.  Although Robbie had told him he could let it all out, James was afraid of his own anger sometimes.  There had to be another way.  
  
Peterson?  He liked to talk through their cases – throwing up ideas, possible motives, and wondering what various people were thinking – much as Robbie had, though Peterson confined his speculation to the office and the incident room rather than the pub.  And, while his behaviour could never be called extreme or worrisome, Peterson had shown himself to be more volatile and emotionally expressive than Robbie.   
  
In the confines and security of the office, when Peterson became aggravated with one aspect or another, he would vent his annoyance or distress.  James had been astonished the first time he'd witnessed the vehemence of Peterson's reaction to a suspect's indifference to the excessively violent nature of the assault they were investigating.  It had happened on several occasions since, though James had never felt as though any of it was directed at him.  James quickly came to understand it was how Peterson managed to deal with uglier aspects of their job, and where Peterson's frustrations matched his own, James oddly felt some level of relief himself.  
  
It never quite took away James's personal feelings, but it did take the edge off his stronger reactions.  In many ways, it was an ideal opportunity for James to shed the heaviness that often accompanied their cases – if only he could overcome his own natural reticence to reveal anything about himself – and he was also confident Robbie would see it that way too.  It wasn’t the ideal solution, however.  It wouldn’t cover all matters, and one day, in the not too distant future, he wouldn’t have Peterson either, but it would do in the interim, and give him time to build up his own defences.   
  
The following night, James made love to Robbie with exquisite tenderness.  
  
***  
  
After that night, when James did fall into a dark mood, he was aware that Robbie used kindness to gradually draw him out.  Once the door had been opened, Robbie would then use touch and laughter to help him restore his balance.  They spent a lot of time kissing and caressing, on the couch and in bed.  When James couldn’t sleep, when he was restless, Robbie stayed with him, even though James offered to move to the spare bedroom  
  
“One of us should get some sleep.”  
  
“James, love, do you really think I’m going to get any sleep knowing you’re tossing and turning next door?  We’ll find a way to manage this to – unless you’d rather sleep on your own?”  
  
“No, I don’t.  Not really,” he’d said softly.  “I’d rather be close to you.  Do you have any ideas?”  
  
“I know what worked on the kids,” Robbie had offered sheepishly.  
  
James had held back several snarky comments and waited.  
  
“I can ask Lyn.  The hospital’s not all about drugs and sedatives, she might have some ideas.  And you can laugh, but warm showers before bed and warm milk do have some benefit.  Or we can just persevere with it.  So far, it’s only ever been a couple of nights in a row.  Give it some thought, pet.”  
  
When they spent time together packing, Robbie would either fill him in on Lyn’s latest news, or they would play some of Robbie’s albums from the seventies.  James would playfully take the mickey out of him, making Robbie laugh, and James would find himself laughing along joyfully.  From time to time, he would fall into a giggling fit.  It lifted both their spirits.  The difference it made to James’s general mood was significant; he was all too conscious that in the past much of his laughter had been sarcastic or self-deprecating.  
  
  
  
Robbie kept an eye on him.  Whatever James was doing at work was having some effect, though it was still early days.  He still bore the signs of someone weighed down by their own difficulties, but the burden had begun to lighten.  It was enough.  Robbie hoped with time, love, and perseverance, James would find the balance which worked for him, whether he stayed in the police force or not.

 

**********

 

As James’s agent had predicted, re-leasing the flat had been straightforward and they were now well and truly locked into their moving date.  One week after completion and collecting the keys, all they had left to do was pack was their clothes and those items they used on a daily basis.  Robbie had gone out to the house mid-week and measured up the space for the fridge freezer, and this weekend, if Oxford’s criminal class co-operated, he and James were going to move the majority of the smaller boxes and make a decision on a fridge freezer.  
  
The house had looked quite different empty of furniture, and he’d wandered around the house, visualising James’s furniture in place.  He’d stood in what would be their bedroom, and from the upstairs windows had looked out at the compact, neat, but very basic back garden.  He’d spent some time trying to envisage what they could do together to make the space uniquely theirs.  The kitchen was much larger than anything Robbie had had in the past, and they had a proper dining room.  He’d wondered if they would entertain.  James wasn’t the most social of people – neither was he – but Robbie liked the idea of occasionally having people over for dinner, even though it would be a short guest list.  He knew Laura would come, and was confident Innocent would accept the occasional invitation.  James had warned him Laura was expecting them to have a house-warming party of some description.  Perhaps it could be a dinner instead.  



	5. Chapter 5

James had only been able to book the Friday and Monday off work, giving him a four-day weekend instead of the hoped for six-day break.  He considered himself lucky to have it at all when a Norovirus outbreak threatened to see officers recalled from leave to cover any shortages.  Innocent had assured him, as he and Peterson had only just come off the rotation, he would be one of the last called in, if it were to happen at all.  
  
“Make the most of the break, James, and stay well.  It could be extremely hectic next week.”  
  
***  
  
They were both at the house on the Friday when the fridge freezer was delivered, and ensured it was properly in place and switched on.  The space and their budget had allowed them to choose a large 297 litre model, by far the biggest either of them had ever had.  With the delivery van gone, and the packaging disposed of, Robbie returned to vacuuming the upstairs room, while James mopped all the tiled areas.  The boxes they’d brought over the previous weekend were stacked in the appropriate rooms.  All of James’s books, bar the three he was trying to read, were now unpacked onto the built-in shelving in the front room, along with their combined vinyl and CD collections.  The bulk of the linen was neatly placed in the airing cupboard located between the bathroom and the second bedroom.  
  
With the floors clean, they stopped for lunch.  James had spent a good hour packing the cool box they regularly used when they went to the allotment.  
  
“What else is there to do today?”  James opened up his cheese and pickle sandwich and added a large handful of crisps.  
  
“How old are you, man?”  Robbie didn’t know whether to laugh or shake his head.  
  
“Never too old for a crisp sarnie,” James garbled around a mouthful, pushing a stray crisp in with his thumb.  
  
“Oh, if you can’t beat them...  pass us the packet then, please, James.”  
  
James slid the open packet across with his elbow, both hands being required to hold his sandwich together.  
  
Robbie added a generous helping of the pickled onion crisps.  “The windows are fine, so we don’t need to bother with those – thank goodness – so I thought we could see if the previous owner left anything in the garden shed.  I didn’t give a thought to garden equipment at all, but we’ll need a small lawnmower of some description at the very least.”  
  
“ _You’ll_ need a lawnmower.”  James covered his mouth when he spoke, but the cheek was unmissable.  
  
“Just for your lip, there’ll be a rota, and you’ll be at the top.”  He rushed to slap James on the back when he laughed and inhaled a chip instead.  “Ya daft git,” said Robbie fondly.  
  
James took a long drink of water.  Recovered, he asked, “Can’t we hire someone, like Laura does?”  
  
“For a lawn that size?  Not worth it.”  
  
They took their tea out into the garden and into the tiny shed.  It was completely empty.  
  
“It’s a good thing you’ve got those Homebase vouchers now, isn’t it?” James failed to dodge the clip behind the ear.  
  
***  
  
Robbie barely slept that night, while James slept as though he’d been drugged.  Robbie supposed it was what happened when you weren’t responsible for the details.  He curled himself tightly around James and went through everything they had to do in the morning.

 

**********

 

Robbie sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unpacking the last of the kitchenware and organising the cupboards.  James had gone to Tesco’s to do a full food shop and pick up a takeaway on the way home for their dinner.  
  
With a groan, Robbie grabbed the edge of the worktop and pulled himself to his feet.  Now everything was in place, it was blatantly obvious how few possessions James and Robbie had between them.  The main bedroom was more spacious than James’s old one, making the bed look smaller.  The built-in wardrobe was easily twice the size of James’s which was now the only piece of furniture in the larger of the two spare bedrooms.  The other bedroom was completely empty.  Tomorrow, once again with the assistance of Adam and his uncle’s van, they would fill it with the contents of the storage unit, and Robbie would sort through it over time.  Robbie had asked James if he wanted to convert the third room into a study at some point, but James had suggested it would make a better child’s bedroom instead.  
  
“Matthew won’t always sleep in the same room as Lyn and Tim when they visit.  It makes sense to keep it as a bedroom.  The front room is quite large and one corner could easily be set up as a study.  Or even the dining room.  Realistically, how often would we use it as a dining room?  There’s more than enough space in the kitchen for a good-sized dining table and chairs.”  
  
Robbie had been quietly relieved.  If James chose to go back to study at a later date, which Robbie suspected he would, he wasn’t happy with the idea of James being locked away upstairs, while he sat alone downstairs.  
  
Robbie was in the middle of flattening the empty boxes when James arrived home, and together they put the shopping away.  One bag in particular caught Robbie’s eye.  
  
“Are we trying something new?”  He held up two bottles of Disaronno.  
  
“It’s a thank you gift for Adam.  I offered to pay him for his time, and his uncle for the use of the van, and he wouldn’t hear of it, although he did take twenty pounds for petrol.  But I know he won’t refuse a gift, and especially not that.”  James nodded at the bottles.  
  
“Fair enough.”  Robbie replaced the bottles and tucked the bag in the corner behind the kettle and toaster.  While James finished stacking the fridge and freezer – Robbie couldn’t believe how many bags he’d eventually carried through the door – Robbie gathered together plates, cutlery and glasses, setting dinner out on the breakfast bar.  
  
They ate in silence, both worn out from the day’s efforts, and all too aware of more to come.  After emptying the storage unit, they planned to tackle Homebase knowing they would still have Monday morning to fall back on if they decided it was going to be too difficult or too much for one day.  It had been agreed Monday afternoon was for recovery, for napping, pints, and long hours of pleasure in bed.  
  
  
  
James’s head lay in Robbie’s lap, eyes closed, jaw slack.  His hands rested against his belly, the fingers loosely interlocked, and Robbie’s right hand rested on top.  James’s legs, crossed at the ankle, rested on the arm of the couch.  Robbie’s face was turned to the ceiling, his gaze lazily studying the ornate light fitting and ceiling rose a previous owner must have added: it certainly didn’t fit the age of the house.  The light from the lamp cast strange shadows.  Robbie’s left hand was laid gently on James’s head, the thumb slowly sweeping back and forth across his forehead.  
  
“Time for bed, eh?” Robbie whispered as James yawned.  He looked down as James pushed open one eye.  
  
“Mmm hmm.”  In one graceful movement James raised the top half of his body, swung his feet onto the floor, stood – and dropped back into the seat next to Robbie.  
  
“Oops,” he giggled, his tiredness creeping through in his tone.  “Try again.”  
  
This time James stood, held his balance and stretched, turning and offering his hands to Robbie.  “I think we should test out the bath first.  Together.”  
  
Robbie slipped to the edge of his seat and took James’s hands in his own, but instead of standing, he quietly studied James for a long moment then pulled him back onto the couch.  Before James could utter a word, Robbie slipped off the couch and knelt on the floor in front of James.  He never let go of James’s hands.  The fluttering in Robbie’s chest threatened to become a hammering.  James looked at him curiously.  
  
“James, love, this first night in _our_ house, it’s… not entirely a new beginning… the next stage, I suppose.  I know we talked about _after_ your exam, but I feel like I should have done this weeks ago.  I have no idea what I’m supposed to be asking you, James, but here goes...”  
  
“Wait!”  Understanding swept across James’s face, and he dropped carefully to his knees in front of Robbie, holding their clasped hands loosely between them.  In this position, his face was almost level with Robbie’s.  
  
Robbie swallowed down his butterflies.  “James, will you...?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“Aww, pet, let me at least try to ask, please.”  Robbie smiled fondly.  James pressed his lips together and nodded.  
  
“James Hathaway, will you be my...  would you consent to...”  Robbie frowned.  Everything which came to mind sounded unappealing.  _Will you be my civil partner?  Would you consent to partner with me?  Will you be my legal partner?_   “Oh, bollocks,” he muttered, his eyes flicking away from James, but not so far that he didn’t see the flash of confusion in James’s eyes.  Robbie quickly kissed him to reassure him.  “James, will you marry me one day, but in the meantime, can I interest you in legally being my other half?”  
  
James snorted softly, and whispered, “Yes, my love.”  He pulled Robbie’s hands towards him and behind his back, falling forward slowly to meet Robbie’s lips once again.  



	6. Chapter 6

Laura clicked her tongue in annoyance as Peterson and James swept out of the morgue.  
  
“You’re welcome, gentlemen,” she called after them.  “Please give credit where credit’s due.”  She scolded herself for the half a dozen uncharitable thoughts which zipped through her head.  “James writes the reports, woman, of course he’ll acknowledge you.”  Laura only wished she knew exactly what she’d said that had caused the two of them to almost trip over each other in their haste to get to the door, with a cry of “the bloody dog” hanging in the air as the door eased shut in their wake.  
  
“Well, Mr Kent,” she addressed the silent corpse kindly as she pulled the drape over his face, “I can assure you Peterson and Hathaway won’t rest until the person who did this to you is brought to justice.  You’ve two good officers on your case.”  
  
As the morgue assistant arrived to take Mr Kent back to his current resting place, Laura headed to her office.  She had more than enough work to keep her occupied until such time as James came back and filled her in on what had happened, as she knew he eventually would.   
  
Her relationship with James had scarcely skipped a beat since her return.  She wished she could have said the same for others.   
  
For every two people who had accepted the situation without question – the bond between Robbie and James appeared to be no surprise to anyone – there was someone who seemed to expect drama: at least that was how it had sometimes felt to Laura.  She’d heard the whispers whenever she had to visit CID, and noted the curious stares when she attended a new crime scene.  It had been interesting, almost amusing, at first, being the ‘wronged’ woman.  However, she’d quickly little tired of being told how brave she’d been, how generous to publicly give her blessing, especially as it usually came from those who either hadn’t been at Robbie’s retirement or had left before James and Robbie’s coming out.  It had lessened over the passing weeks but she couldn’t wait for it to fade into obscurity.  
  
She’d also found herself making short work of those who thought they could support her by badmouthing either Robbie or James.  
  
Her own team had, on the whole, been wonderful.  Once assured she was okay, as testified to by her words and her actions, they had mostly left the matter alone.  As she’d predicted, it was her Pathology Assistant, Christine, who’d approached her, concern for Laura’s wellbeing overriding any curiosity.  They’d made the most of a quiet period during Laura’s third week back, and taken a long lunch.   
  
Christine, a divorced mother with two teenaged boys, was a no-nonsense woman with a strong sense of fair play and fierce loyalty to those she regarded as friends.  There had been a tense moment when Laura was convinced Christine wasn’t going to readily accept her retelling of the key points.  Fortunately, Christine had known Robbie since his last months with Morse, and it was her own experience of Robbie’s kindness and integrity which finally convinced her Laura was neither making excuses nor in denial.  
  
Laura _had_ been amused to hear rumours about her and Jean, and even more so by Jean’s mixed reaction.  She was far less shocked than Laura would have supposed.  
  
Her reflections were interrupted by the ringing of her mobile.  She smiled when she looked at the display.  
  
“Hello, Robbie.”  
  
“Hello, Laura.  Can you talk, or is this a bad time?”  
  
Laura sensed both a reluctance and a need to speak on Robbie’s part.  “Now is fine.  How are you, and how’s the house?”  
  
“I’m fine and the house is grand.”  
  
“And the house-warming?  When do we get to see the love nest?”  
  
“ _Laura._ ”   
  
She could hear the blush and resisted teasing him further.  “Sorry, Robbie.  You _are_ having a house-warming though, aren’t you?”  
  
“We’re still light on furniture, and James has his OSPRE coming up.  Once both of those things are out of the way, then we’ll think about a house-warming of some sort.”  
  
Something in his voice was bothering Laura.  
  
“Robbie, is something the matter?”  She sought to find a balance between curious, concerned and worried.  “As much as I love talking with you, you’re not known for ringing people simply for a chat, apart from Lyn.  Is there something I can help you with?”  
  
Robbie’s steady breathing was the only indicator he was still on the line.  Laura waited.  
  
“It’s James,” Robbie started hesitantly.  That was no surprise to Laura.  “He’s no idea I’m calling you; I didn’t know I was going to until I picked the phone up.  It’s daft, but I’m worried about how he’s really coping with work, with witnesses and suspects and I... I needed to talk to someone who knows him, someone who sees him on the job, someone he might let his guard down around.  He tells me he’s fine, that he’s learning to ‘identify and categorise’ what he’s feeling, and I believe him if I don’t quite understand him, but I can’t quite manage to quiet the nagging voice that keeps asking ‘are you sure?’.”  
  
Laura held her sigh in.  While neither James nor Robbie had ever told her exactly what James had said the night Robbie convinced him not to resign immediately, from what she’d learned from James over the odd coffee, she’d wondered if she was going to find herself having this conversation with Robbie.  She would have also preferred to have it over coffee – or something a little stronger.  
  
Laura glanced at the clock.  “Can you meet me around one?”  She named a small café where they’d had lunch a few times.  
  
“I don’t want to take you away from work.”  
  
“You’d be doing me a favour,” she offered.  
  
“One o’clock, then.  Thanks, Laura.”  His relief was evident.  
  
***  
  
She let Robbie talk uninterrupted, though she was initially wary.  It would have been out of character for Robbie to talk directly about James behind his back.  Her fears were quickly squashed for, as Robbie spoke, Laura knew she was hearing his own thoughts and fears for James and not anything James may have shared privately.  Within his words, she heard some of her own early concerns.  When he did refer directly to something James had said or done, it was to events he would know she was aware of.  He never referred to anything she and James had discussed privately, and she wondered if Robbie knew she and James had met up.  
  
For a man who could be quite articulate, though not loquacious, his difficulty in expressing his feelings could be frustrating for both speaker and listener.  However, Laura had learnt, too late perhaps, to read between the lines with Robbie, taking cues from his body language and facial expressions.  She quickly recognised Robbie’s greater need, beyond reassurance that James was doing well, was simply to give order and a voice to what he was feeling.  Laura listened attentively.  
  
The hunch of his shoulders eased as he spoke, and when he stuttered into silence she laid her hand on his where it rested on the table.   
  
“Bearing in mind I’m not a psychologist, from what I’ve seen, James is fine.  Obviously I don’t get to see him in all situations, but I honestly believe if there was any sign to indicate something was amiss Alan or Jean would say something – especially Jean.”  
  
Laura considered how much to say.  She put her trust in Robbie’s discretion.  
  
“Has James told you we meet for coffee occasionally?”    She gave a satisfied ‘hmpf’ when Robbie acknowledged he knew.  “Then I hope you know I do try to keep an eye on him as best I can?”   
  
Robbie gave her a thankful smile.  “I had hoped that was the case.  But I also know you don’t see him all the time.”  
  
Laura slipped her hand up and held Robbie’s wrist.  “No, that’s true, but Alan – Peterson – does, and he’s good for James.  Not as good as you are for him, though.”  
  
Robbie huffed a gentle laugh.  Laura patted the back of his hand and sat back in her chair.  
  
“I learnt something about Alan the other day you may find interesting.”  She caught Robbie’s eye.  “Did you ever have an opportunity to watch him with any of his bagmen at any stage?”  
  
“We never worked together beyond a few larger operations.  Why?”  
  
“Alan likes to talk through the cases, and he encourages his bagmen to, as well.  Not just the detail, but impressions, feelings, prejudices, anything that may affect the way they approach the case.”  
  
Robbie’s eyes went perfectly round and his lips parted in surprise.  “He’s got James talking about his _feelings?”_  
  
”Are you jealous, Robbie?”  Laura studied his demeanour.  
  
“Jealous?  Of Alan Peterson?  No.  But James...  his feelings?  That’s like trying to get a blood out of a stone on most days, even for me.”  
  
Laura laughed.  “I’m only telling you this because I’ve seen it with my own eyes.  I was in their office a few days ago when they started hashing out a particular point based on the report I’d just given them.  They went around in circles for a few minutes before James quietly admitted what they were talking about made him ‘bloody angry’.  From the look on Alan’s face, you’d think he’d struck gold.  I suppose what I’m trying to say, Robbie, is, there’s an available outlet for James to vent what he’s feeling – if he’s willing to use it.”  
  
She let Robbie process the information.   
  
“James has mentioned Peterson’s got a different slant on brainstorming a case, but he never hinted at the feelings part of it.”  
  
“Does it bother you?”  
  
“Yes and no.  I’m pleased he’s got somewhere to talk, and maybe that’s part of his identifying and categorising, but I’d’ve thought he’d at least let me know there was someone he could talk to.”  
  
“From what I’ve seen, James doesn’t do a lot of talking, but it’s possible the process helps him find some order and sense in his head to what he’s feeling.  Maybe he hasn’t told you because he was concerned you’d feel... replaced in some way and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.  Or perhaps he wanted to see if he could do it, could comfortably express whatever feelings their cases brought up, before he told you.  You know James.  He wouldn’t want to get your hopes up about something before he was certain.”  
  
“Now _that_ does sound like James.”  Laura relaxed as Robbie’s brow smoothed out.  
  
“There is another thing about Alan which could be of benefit to James.”  Laura sipped her coffee.  “He’s experienced in dealing with officers returning from burnout – including himself.”  She didn’t have to tell Robbie she was speaking in confidence this time, and his eyes told her he understood she wouldn’t have said anything if she didn’t think it absolutely essential.  “It’s partly why he left Sunderland, to prove to himself he was back to one hundred per cent and not simply functioning within a safe zone.  And no, I won’t tell you how I know, other than to say we have seen a bit of each other in recent times, _and_ Alan assures me it’s not a secret, it’s just not something he’s comfortable broadcasting.”  
  
She watched as Robbie fought down the urge to ask more questions.   
  
“James is going to be fine, Robbie.  You’ve given him love, a home, and brought him into a loving family – all things he’d never dreamt he’d have.  Keep giving him time, your trust, and, most of all, your love.  Look after him at home, and it will continue to fall into place at work.”  
  
Robbie turned his hand under hers so they were palm against palm and gently squeezed.  “Thanks.”  
  
His lips were pressed together and his head bobbed slightly.  If Laura didn’t know better she would have expected tears to appear in his eyes.  Thankfully – or not – this was Robbie, a master at the art of bottling things inside.  He let go of her hand to pick up his mug of tea with both hands.  Laura could see the slight tremor, no doubt of relief, and averted her gaze to her plate, where a piece of rocket held her attention until Robbie cleared his throat.  
  
“You know, not that long ago, if someone told me I’d be sitting here with you, like this, both of us concerned for James, I would have told them they were daft.  You’re a remarkable woman, Laura.  I really, honestly thought I’d...”  He closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly.  “I’m so grateful James and I can still count you as a friend.”  
  
Laura held back her first response, the one which explained how much she had, in fact, gained.  It seemed inappropriate to point out she was finding a new joy in the freedom her singleness brought now she truly understood how fundamental it was to her overall happiness.  Or that it was something she may never have discovered had she not won and lost Robbie.  
  
“As am I, Robbie.”


	7. Chapter 7

Robbie and James had an opportunity to spend a couple of nights up in Manchester earlier than anticipated.  Through a quirk of rosters and the finalising of a case, it fell mid-week.  While they would have preferred a weekend, they weren’t going to let the chance slip by.  Robbie was amused when he saw James slip some of his OPSRE study materials into the bottom of his holdall, then pause, frown, and remove them again.  He stared at them, clearly torn, before slowly putting them back into the drawer of the bedside table.  James had been – not entirely unexpectedly – zealous in his application to his studies, to the point where Robbie would have to take the books off him and entice him into bed.  
  
“I know I’ve said it’s important to cover all areas thoroughly, but you must have committed the whole blessed thing to memory by now.  Take a wee break the next couple of days.  It’s not like you’re sitting the exam the day after we get back.”  He hadn’t understood James’s mixed expression at the time.  He thought he did now.  
  
Robbie coughed softly and James stood ramrod straight, startled by his presence.  Robbie chuckled and tipped his head toward the bedside table.  “Are those your weakest areas?”  James’s head swivelled back and forth between the drawer and Robbie.  “Go on,” Robbie said gently.  “Take them if you’ll feel more comfortable knowing you’ve got them handy.”  
  
“Ah, er, no, really, I don’t, I wasn’t...  I meant to...”  He trailed off under Robbie’s understanding gaze.  “I know you want me to take a break, but it’s not how I study.  It’s all or nothing with me when an exam’s approaching.  You could almost call it the habit of a lifetime.”  
  
“I get that now.”  Robbie walked around the bed.  “I’d never seen you in full study mode before.  Your intensity’s a little... unnerving.”  
  
“A couple more weeks.  Then it’s done.”  
  
Robbie gently tugged James’s head down and kissed him.  “Aye, then it’s done.”  
  
***  
  
Lyn greeted them eagerly.  As promised, the spare room was ready, and Lyn had prepared lunch.  Robbie was on guard.  Lyn had always been the more curious of his children and he knew at a glance she was bursting with questions.  He’d anticipated this, and tried to warn James.  
  
“She’s asked a hundred questions about the house and the move, but nothing about you and me.  I know she’s been waiting to get us both in the room together.”  
  
James had looked up warily.  “I suppose it’s marginally better than pinning us down separately.  Should we get our stories straight now?”  
  
Robbie had given him an exasperated glare which James had kissed away.  
  
They’d barely begun to eat when she started.  
  
“So.”  She regarded them brightly.  “Have you set a date yet?”  
  
Robbie glanced sideways at James, as if to say _here we go._   “We’re waiting until after James’s exam before making any decisions.  Don’t worry, we’ll let you know when we decide.”  
  
“Will you exchange rings?”  
  
Robbie held back a resigned groan.  Two questions and she’d already touched on something he and James were yet to discuss.  
  
“We’ve not really... decided yet,” he stumbled.  He caught James’s reaction from the corner of his eye.  He was watching Lyn and biting back a grin.  _Oh, it’s like that, is it?_   “What do you think, James?  Is it worth the fuss and bother?”  
  
Giving the slightest tilt of his head, James schooled his face into a brooding frown.  “Well, now you ask...”  
  
“Dad!  James!  Of course it’s worth it. How could you say such...”    She folded her arms and glared at them when Robbie snorted quietly.  “That was just mean.”  
  
“Sorry, love, but you are...  I, we don’t know.  We haven’t talked about it.  There’re a lot of things we haven’t talked about yet.  Give us time.”  
  
She looked slowly from on to the other.  “Please tell me one of you has at least proposed properly?  I know you’re not completely unromantic, dad.”  
  
Robbie blushed under the knowing smile from James.  He had to clear his throat before he spoke.  “Aye, we have.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And what?”  
  
“Ugh, dad!  Who proposed?”  
  
James stretched across the table, clasped Robbie’s hands and addressed Lyn.  “Your dad is very romantic.  He got down on bended knee in the front room on our first night in the house.”   
  
“So does that mean you get the engagement ring?” she asked.  Robbie chuckled softly.  Lyn was an incurable romantic and was gazing expectantly at James who was slowly turning pink.  
  
“Wouldn’t it look a little odd?”  James held his both hands out in front of him, fingers splayed.  “Two rings?  Would you wear one on each hand, or two on one?  And it’s not as though many jewellers stock masculine engagement rings.”  
  
Lyn frowned lightly.  “I suppose it doesn’t have to be a ring.”  Her eyes quickly darted across his face, neck and hands.  “Hmmm, you’re not really a jewellery person, are you?  An engraved watch, maybe?   
  
“I like the one I have, and I can really only wear one at a time.”  
  
She looked closely at his ears again.   
  
“You don’t have any piercings, do you?”  
  
James shuddered.  “No.  Nor do I have any plans to get any.”  
  
Her eyes sparkled and mischief swept across her face.  “Matching tattoos?”  
  
“No.”  Robbie and James chorused.  
  
Lyn giggled nervously.  “It was just a thought.”  
  
Robbie heaved a sigh of relief when an impatient cry sent Lyn upstairs to fetch Matthew.

 

**********

 

After one more question later that evening, and eliciting a promise from Robbie to let her know of any decisions they made regarding a date, Lyn gave them a reprieve for the rest of their stay, confining her questions to the house and the allotment.  
  
“Have you thought about whether or not one or both of you will change your name, or hyphenate?  Hathaway-Lewis, Lewis-Hathaway?”  
  
It was a subject which had never crossed Robbie’s mind.  He’d never given it much thought when he’d married Val either.  He hadn’t needed to: she’d started practicing her signature as ‘Valerie Lewis’ months before the wedding, and had made a detailed of list of every agency who would need to know about her change of name.  Robbie hadn’t had a say in the matter and, as far as he was concerned, that was how it should have been.  Although he wouldn’t have been entirely comfortable with it, if Val had wanted to be known as ‘Ms Valerie Venables’ he would have accepted her decision.  It _was_ 1978, not 1958, after all, and Val had been her own person, not his property.  
  
“I’ve never really considered it.”  He frowned and took James’s hand.  “Have you given any thought to it?”  
  
“I must admit I have.  To adding ‘Lewis’, that is.”  
  
Robbie was surprised.  “You should have mentioned it, pet.  We could have talked about it.”  
  
James gave him a wry grin.  “If I had said I was thinking about it, what answer do you think you might have given me?”   
  
Robbie thought for a moment, remembering Val.  “It’s your name, James, your public identity.  Whatever you choose won’t change who you are to me.”  
  
James smiled gently.  “That’s what I thought you might say.  I don’t have any strong feelings either way, although, I have to admit I was stunned when I worked out how many places I’d have to inform if I did choose to change.  I don’t know why anyone does it if they don’t have to.  It may be a cultural obligation for some, but it’s not as though it’s a legal requirement.”  He squeezed Robbie’s hand.  
  
Robbie enfolded James’s hand within his own.  “You being comfortable with who you are is what’s important to me, love.”  
  
A heavy, heartfelt sigh drew Robbie’s attention back to Lyn who was watching them fondly.  “All good with you, lass?”  
  
“Yes, dad.  All good.”


	8. Chapter 8

Innocent approved three days’ leave for James around his OSPRE exam.  On the first day, James hid himself away in the dining room, which they’d made into a study/reading room.  Before he did so, he told Robbie he wanted to finish up by six so he could rest properly, and Robbie was to stop him if he didn’t.  Robbie sensed it was pointless to even consider asking James to rest for the whole day instead, and was relieved it was James who had set the ‘curfew’.  Tomorrow was going to be a long day.  Although James’s exam wasn’t until one, he had to attend the exam centre in Coventry.  Robbie would do the driving so James could let himself be distracted on the road up and relax during drive home.  
  
James had his earphones in, and Robbie left him relatively undisturbed.  Feeling certain James would neglect to take any sort of break unless prompted, Robbie took in a fresh cup of tea and two chocolate digestives every hour or so, taking away the untouched or half-drunk cup.  Of the biscuits there was no trace, nor of the sandwiches he left on one corner of the desk at lunch time.  James only left the room to go to the toilet.  To Robbie’s delight, James sought him out and kissed him each time he did.  
  
In between making cups of tea, Robbie cleaned upstairs, and tidied the front room.  He spent some time in the garden, and washed James’s car.  When he’d done all he could without creating a major disturbance – the vacuuming would have to wait until Friday – and had dinner well underway, Robbie settled himself in the armchair in the opposite corner to James.  He tried to concentrate firstly on the newspaper, then one of James’s novels.  When the mantle clock in the front room struck five, he quietly left the room, stopping in the doorway where he flicked on the overhead light.  James’s head bobbed up as the sudden brightness overwhelmed the desk lamp.  He checked his watch.  Twisting in the chair, he gave Robbie a small smile and wave.  
  
The mantle clock struck six.  Dinner was ready and James was still at his books.   
  
James startled when Robbie put his hands on his shoulders and began to slowly and firmly massage.  Robbie wasn’t as skilled as James, but he was confident of his ability here.  James pushed his books away and his head dropped forward as Robbie worked out the tightness on either side of his neck and down to the top of his arms.  Robbie kissed the back of James’s neck as he finished.  
  
“Food, bath, maybe a bit of telly, and then bed for you, I think.”  Robbie turned off the desk lamp.  Taking James’s hand he led him out of the room.  
  
“Any extras on offer?”  Robbie shivered at James’s voice.  If the lad was going to use that tone on him this early in the evening they were both in danger of missing dinner completely.  
  
“We’ll see how it goes, eh, pet?  You’ve had a long day at the books.  I reckon you’ll crash early.”  Robbie impressed himself by keeping his own voice steady.  
  
“Perhaps,” James conceded quietly.  
  
***  
  
In the time it took Robbie to clear and wipe down the table and stack the dishwasher, James had dozed off on the couch.  Despite intimating James should have an early night, Robbie hadn’t actually expected him to fall asleep so soon.  Robbie gave him a small shake.  
  
“Upstairs you.  Bath.  Bed.”  
  
James stretched.  “M’fine.”  
  
“You were asleep, man.”  
  
“Resting m’eyes.  Too much reading.”  
  
“You were snoring, pet.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Never thought a day on the books would knock you about so much.”  
  
James huffed.  “It usually depends on how engaging the source material it.  The less appealing, the harder I have to work to concentrate – it’s draining.  I think I’d be very wary of anyone who was mentally stimulated by acts, rules, and regulations.”  
  
Robbie snorted.  “C’mon, you.  I’ll run you a bath.  I’ll even wash you, if you like, then we can both have an early night.”  
  
“Sounds nice,” James murmured.  
  
***  
  
By the light of Robbie’s bedside lamp they kissed soft and slow.  The flash of heat Robbie had heard earlier from James seemed to fizzle out over dinner, and James was only interested in being close.  His hand lay calmly against Robbie’s hip, making no effort to explore.  Robbie caressed James’s face and neck.  Made even drowsier by the warm bath, James was soon snoring quietly in his arms.  It was barely nine.  Moving carefully so as not to disturb James, Robbie reached under his pillow for the book he’d tucked under there earlier.  An hour of reading and he’d be ready to sleep, too  
  
***  
  
A strangled cry and a sharp pain in his sided shocked Robbie from his sleep.  As Robbie fumbled for the lamp switch he could hear James panting.  It was the sound of a scared man.  Robbie blinked against the glare to see James sitting up staring at him as though surprised to see him.  
  
“James, love, what is it?”  Robbie sat close and laid his arm over James’s shoulder.  James literally fell on him, hugging him around the waist.  
  
James hesitated.  “It was dream – a nightmare, really – but it was so vivid.  I came home and you’d changed your mind.  You weren’t here.”  
  
“I’m here, and I’ve no plans to go anywhere else.”  Robbie soothed James.  “You’ve been pushing yourself hard recently – it’s probably just mucking around with your subconscious.”  
  
Robbie raised James’s chin with a finger and kissed him.  When James kissed back there was an urgency, almost a possessiveness, behind it, and he pushed Robbie backwards against the mattress.  Robbie’s rapid erection was as much a surprise to him as to James, judging by James’s eyes as he rolled onto him.  This was very different to anything James had ever done before and Robbie was a little uncertain and thrilled at the same time.  He let himself go with it.  He trusted James, and he could always stay ‘stop’.  
  
James nuzzled hungrily at Robbie’s neck, breaking away to tug Robbie’s t-shirt up and over his head.  He started to move down Robbie’s body, dropping small kisses as he went, sucking at Robbie’s nipples, long fingers pushing down and removing his boxers, then delicately stimulating the sensitive skin of his thighs and groin.  As James moved lower, his mouth working over Robbie’s chest and stomach, Robbie suddenly became aware of what James had planned, and was both expectant and wary.  
  
Robbie pulled his ragged thoughts together.  James was the one who’d had the nightmare.  James was the one who needed comfort and reassurance.  If _this_ was going to happen, surely James should be the one to receive the attention.  Robbie gradually took control.  He sought James’s hand, linking their fingers together.  Using their joint hands as leverage, and uttering soft words of comfort, he quietly urged James onto his back.  Without a murmur, James surrendered and helped Robbie strip him.  
  
Robbie’s heart was racing.  James’s submission had affected him in a way he hadn’t expected.  He swallowed as his fingers traced the lines of James’s body.  
  
“I’ve not done this before, love, though I have...”  Robbie felt the heat of his blush flood his body from his chest to the top of his head.  “I know what I like and...  just tell me if something’s not to your fancy, okay.”  
  
Robbie kissed his way down James’s body with light kisses.  He used long strokes of his tongue along the length of James’s erection, hyperaware of every noise which escaped him.  With his lips and tongue Robbie gently stimulated the head of James’s cock, before finally sucking it in.  Afterwards, Robbie decided pure instinct had taken over at that point.  
  
It was the change in James’s breathing which gave Robbie his first clue, followed swiftly by James tugging at his shoulders.  
  
“Coming.”  James managed to gasp out one word before his climax overtook him.  It was enough.  Robbie moved up James’s body and took James in hand as he came, stroking him through each wave.  
  
Robbie was shocked and delighted at the intensity of James’s climax.  As was James, it appeared, as he barely gave Robbie the chance to catch his breath before he was kissing him hungrily.  
  
James’s head fell back against the pillow.   
  
“Oh, God, Robbie,” James gasped then giggled.  “I’m a bit of a mess.”  
  
“That you are, and it’s all my fault.”  Robbie grinned down at him as he lay there, flushed and panting.  “You stay there, love.  Let me catch me breath, then I’ll get a cloth and get you all clean and comfortable again.”  
  
James was half asleep when Robbie returned with the damp face cloth, and snoring softly when Robbie came back the second time after taking the cloth back to the bathroom.  Robbie soon fell into a deep sleep beside him.  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Twelve pounds of hungry cat completing a four-paw landing on his bladder propelled Robbie out of bed with a loud expletive.  He was across the hallway and in the bathroom before he registered James hadn't been in bed with him.  If he wasn't there, and Monty was clamouring for his breakfast so he wasn’t in the kitchen, where was James?  
  
A cursory glance around both bathroom and bedroom revealed little.  Slipping on his robe, Robbie headed downstairs.  Monty shot past him and was yowling in front of the fridge when Robbie reached the kitchen.  From behind him he heard the sound of the front door opening.  He stepped into the hallway as James pushed through the door, wisps of heavy mist trailing in with him.  
  
“You've not been out running in _that_ , surely?”  
  
“Walking.  Thinking.  Clearing my head.”  James leant against the door as he loosened his trainers, his head bowed.  Moisture had darkened his hair, and his nose and cheeks were red with the chill.  He stripped down to his socks and undies, roughly bundling the mist-dampened clothes together.  
  
“What're those marks?”  Robbie stepped closer, intrigued by an arc of four blue-black dots on the side of James's thigh, with a fifth larger dot towards the front.  
  
“What mar–  oh.”  James appeared to check his other thigh.  When he looked at Robbie he was blushing.  He turned his body and Robbie could see a matching set of marks on the other side.  
  
“What the dev–”  Robbie's eyes widened as James dropped the grey bundle and leant forward so he could grip his thighs, fingers splayed wide.  His fingertips and thumb lined up perfectly.  
  
James cleared his throat.  “I vaguely remember grabbing my legs instead of...”  
  
“...my head,” Robbie finished.  James nodded, biting his bottom lip.  Heat pooled low in Robbie's groin when he recalled the noises James had made.  
  
James straightened and took Robbie's face gently between his palms.  “You surprised me last night,” James murmured, as his face drew nearer.  “Damn, you were good.”  
  
Had James not started to shiver with the cold, Robbie was certain they would have ended up running very late.  
  
***  
  
Showered and dressed, James poked at the bowl in front of him.  Robbie had offered to make James anything he wanted for breakfast and had been a bit disappointed when James asked for porridge.  
  
“You sure you don't want a fry-up?  It’s going to be a long day, you should have a good breakfast.”  
  
“I'll make sure I try to have a decent lunch when we get to Coventry.”  
  
“Try?  It won't do you any good if pass out from hunger before or during your exam.”  
  
“I'm just a bit nervous about this exam.  Actually, most exams make me nervous.  And the closer it gets the worse I know I'll feel.  I'll be fine after.”  
  
With the amount of study James had done, and the level of intensity he’d applied, Robbie found it hard to believe James could have any doubts.  
  
“It’s in the bag, man.”  
  
“And that is precisely the problem.”  James pushed the barely-touched bowl away.  “Everyone expects me to pass with flying colours.  Hell, I expect it.  The problem is, I now feel as though I have to get a perfect score or people are going to be disappointed.”  
  
“Will you be disappointed?”  
  
James's jaw twitched.  “Yes.  A bit.”  
  
“Then you’re the only one really putting yourself under pressure.  Innocent’ll know your mark, perhaps Peterson.  It’ll go on your file and that’s as far as it has to go.  All you have to tell anyone if they ask is ‘fail’, ‘pass’, or ‘exceptional’.  If anyone else asks for any more detail they’re talking out of turn. You go in there, you do your best.  No-one has a right to expect any more of you.”  
  
James didn’t look convinced.  
  
“James, can you tell me for a fact you’ve never had a less than perfect score in an exam?”  
  
“Of course not.  I’ve even failed a few.  Well, two.”  
  
Robbie fought not to ask what they were.  “Then it’s no big deal if this one isn’t perfect then, either, is it?”  
  
James noticeably struggled with himself.  “No, you’re right.”  
  
Robbie stood and walked around the table, bending down to hug James from behind.  
  
“Sometimes you really are your own worst enemy, pet.”  
  
“I know.”  James's shoulders relaxed and Robbie sat down again.  He nodded at the cooling, congealing lump in the bowl.  
  
“Are you going to have more than coffee before we get this show on the road?  There's still time to cook you something.”  
  
James looked at Robbie's plate of eggs, beans and toast.  
  
“Can I get a raincheck?  Tomorrow?”  
  
“Only if you eat something now.”  
  
James acquiesced.  “I'll get it.  No reason your food should get cold.”  
  
James stood by the toaster, a small crease across his brow.  Robbie was curious when he huffed to himself, but said nothing.  
  
James sat down with two slices of toast, each buried under a heavy layer of strawberry jam.  He’d used the bread board as a plate.  He picked up one piece and put it down again.  
  
“I failed my practical driving test twice.  Too heavy on the accelerator the first time, and I had the ‘flu the second time and missed some of the examiner’s instructions.”  
  
“They’re the two tests you failed?”  Robbie hadn’t expected that.  “Who else knows?”  
  
“Just you.”  James bit into the piece of toast and chewed slowly, his eyes fixed on Robbie.  
  
Robbie didn't know what to say.  To him, those two words confirmed the distance between James and his parents.  Whether estranged or dead, they evidently weren't around during James's teens.  Their son passing (or failing) his driving test was something they would definitely have known about.  This wasn't the time or place, nor was it Robbie's business unless James chose to open up, but James was looking for some response.  
  
“Well, it's lucky for you there's no practical section to your OSPRE, then, isn't it.”  
  
James chuckled quietly then became thoughtful.  “At the time it was such a big deal.  My pride was deeply wounded, and I knew if anyone at school found out I'd never hear the end of it _and_ it would have probably followed me up to Cambridge.”  
  
“So how'd you keep it secr–?  Sorry.  Not my business.”  Robbie held up a hand.  
  
James shrugged.  “I was careful – and kept my mouth shut.”  
  
***  
  
James had managed to eat a cheese sandwich and an apple by the time Robbie dropped him off at the exam centre in Coventry.  It wasn’t much, but it was enough to reassure Robbie that James wasn’t going to be lightheaded during the exam.  
  
Robbie filled as much of those three hours as he could by wandering around the town.  He spent some time in a small cafe nursing a coffee and had called Lyn for a short chat.  He found himself sitting in the car shortly before four, having been lucky enough to find a spare bay in the small car park opposite the exam centre.  His attention shifted between the main doors and his watch.  
  
When the doors swung open at ten past four Robbie shifted himself and stood at the front of the car.  He saw James come through the doorway and was pleased to see him walking tall.  Robbie waved as James scanned the road, returning his bright smile when he waved back and jogged across to the car.  
  
Robbie greeted him with a hug, aware that to anyone watching he probably look like James's dad or uncle.  At least he would have if James hadn't kissed him determinedly.  
  
“I take it all went well then?”  Though Robbie wasn't big on public displays, he wasn't going to admonish James – not this time.  His bright mood and obvious happiness made it worthwhile.  
  
“Yes!”  James spun around and reached for the passenger side door.  
  
With his seatbelt fastened, James practically melted into the seat as Robbie started the car.  
  
“Straight home and pick up dinner on the way – what do you say, pet?”  Robbie stared open-mouthed when James all but begged him to stop at McDonald's before they left Coventry.  
  
“You're never serious?  Since when do you eat _that_?  I've _never_ seen you eat McDonalds.”  
  
“You've never seen me straight out of an exam before, either.  Sugar and salt.  Coke and fries.  Now.  Please.”  
  
“Oh, all right.  But I'm not doing drive-through.  I never did it for me kids, and I'm not going to start wi' you.  I'll park and you can go inside.”  
  
James turned when he was halfway out of the car.  “Do you want any...?  I'll take that as a no, then.”  He grinned as Robbie rolled his eyes and waved him off.  
  
***  
  
They arrived back home shortly after six.  They’d had to stop at a lay-by half an hour out of Coventry so James could throw his rubbish in the bin.  The stale smell of chips had pervaded the car to the point they’d had to wind the windows down.  Thankfully the aroma of the Thai takeaway they’d picked up was far more appetising.   
  
James had to push against the front door carefully so as not to injure Monty, who had decided to lie at full stretch directly behind it.  Because of the direction the door opened and the layout of their entry, James had to squeeze between the edge of the door and the wall, taking care not to stand on Monty’s head.  As soon as he bent down to pick the cat up, Monty bolted for the kitchen and began to protest loudly from the worktop.   
  
“I swear that cat likes to torment me some days.”  James closed and locked the door behind Robbie.  
  
“No,” Robbie drawled.  “He’s hungry and can’t feed himself, that’s all.”  
  
***  
  
James stretched out on the couch with his feet in Robbie’s lap.  The light in the room was muted as they’d fallen into the habit of using the standard lamp instead of the overhead lights.  
  
“Tell me again why we bought a couch _and_ two matching armchairs?”  James wiggled his feet against Robbie’s thigh.  “We never use the chairs.”  
  
“Not yet, but we’ll need space for company.  I doubt Lyn or Tim would appreciate you sprawled over their lap.”  
  
“I’m not heavy.”  
  
“No, but you do have a few pointy bits.”  
  
“Fair call.”  James stretched for the remote control sitting on the coffee table and flicked on the telly.  Robbie pushed James’s feet off and stood up.   
  
“Back in a tick.”  
  
Robbie looked back to see James flicking through the channels.  
  
  
  
When Robbie came back to the front room, James had obviously given up on finding anything decent on the telly and had settled back on a favoured _Time Team_ DVD.  Robbie sat close beside him and handed him a glass of wine.  
  
“You must be bloody word perfect on this one.”  
  
James pushed himself up as he took the glass.  “Thank you.  It’s like comfort food without the calories, indigestion, or guilt – and I know for a fact you like it too.”  
  
Robbie relaxed against James’s shoulder as Tony Robinson introduced the show, and drank his wine.  
  
  
  
When James reached forward to put his glass on the table Robbie sat up and perched on the edge of the couch.  
  
“M’sorry,” James said softly.  “I didn’t mean to disturb...  What’s this?”  
  
Robbie was holding out a rectangular box.  
  
“Open it.  Please.”  His hand was shaking.  He placed the box in James’s offered palm.  
  
“Cufflinks?”  James lifted one out of the box and looked at it closely.  Rectangular in shape, with rounded corners and a bevelled edge, the plain gold surface bore a simple engraving of the intertwined initials J and R.  He looked entranced and Robbie held his breath.  “They’re beautiful,” James whispered.  
  
“I really wanted you to have something to mark today.  Your exam and our… engagement, I suppose it is now.  I’ve been thinking about it since our first night here.  A ring didn’t seem right, and I’ve never seen you wear anything around your neck.”  
  
“I’ll wear them with love and pride.  Thank you.”  James leant forward and met Robbie’s lips.  “Did you want to set a date tonight?”  His lips ghosted across Robbie’s cheek.  
  
Robbie exhaled softly as James worked his way down his jaw.  “Did you have something in mind?”  
  
“I may have been thinking about it.”  James tugged Robbie’s shirt out of his jeans and began exploring.  
  
“Tell me in a bit, love.  I wouldn’t want to interrupt you.”


	10. Chapter 10

The third day of James’s leave was meant to be a chance for him to relax.  After a very brief discussion before both fell asleep, they made different plans.  
  
James wandered out into the garden where Robbie was dumping the last of the grass clippings into the bin.  He set the tray he was carrying down on the bench at the end of the shed.  
  
“Tea?”  
  
Robbie dropped onto the bench beside him.  “Ta, James.  What’s this?”  He picked up a printed page which was tucked under the packet of digestives.  
  
“It’s the documentation we’ll need to take to register for the civil partnership.  Can you locate those readily enough?  It’s...  We’ve an appointment at three today – they’d had a cancellation when I called.  I can call back and change it if...”  
  
Robbie was shaking his head.  “No.  Three’s fine.  I know where all this is.”  
  
“But something’s wrong?” James asked carefully.  “I can tell.”  
  
Robbie pointed to one line on the page, the same line which had also made James pause.  Robbie would need to produce Val’s death certificate in order to prove he was free to enter into a civil partnership.   
  
“It’s all the same office.  You think in this day and age they could simply look it up instead of making you...”  Robbie took a large mouthful of tea, which burnt on the way down if his face was any indication.  “They’re only going to copy or scan it.  It’s bloody stupid when it’s already on the system.”  
  
James stayed silent.  There was little point in stating that, as a former policeman, he of all people should understand government processes were often illogical, the result of years of ‘standard practice’.  He hugged him instead.  
  
***  
  
James squeezed and briefly held Robbie’s hand as they left the Registry Office.  They only had a short walk to where James had, technically, illegally parked the car.  
  
Robbie pointed at the windscreen and the ‘Police’ sign James had thrown onto the dashboard.  “One day, you’re going to get nicked for using that.”  
  
“I take great care where and when I use it.  Pub or home?”  James stopped with one hand on the roof of the car, one on the door handle.   
  
Robbie stopped halfway into the car.  “Home, I think.”  
  
James pulled into the flow of early commuter traffic.  “Eight weeks will be enough notice for everyone, won’t it?”  He allowed himself a quick glance at Robbie.  
  
“Plenty of time – it’s not as though we’re planning a big function.  A small, quiet ceremony, was what you wanted too, wasn’t it?”  
  
James quickly dispelled Robbie’s doubts.  “Yes.  It’s about who will be there, no how many, though we will have room for twenty-five guests.  And, strictly speaking, it’s not a ceremony.”  
  
“Semantics.”  Robbie laid a hand on James’s knee.  “Twenty-five guests, eh?  And that was the smallest room available?”  
  
“There was a smaller one available; however it would have been too small.  It’s designed for an intimate ceremony with just the official, the couple, and two witnesses present.”  
  
“See, you called it a ceremony too.  We’ll have two witnesses, plus Lyn and Tim, at the very least.  Though Lyn could be a witness, couldn’t she?”  
  
“She’s over eighteen and I don’t think there’s any rule or law that says she can’t be.  Robbie?”  It suddenly struck James there was one person he’d neglected to consider throughout the past months.  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“Does Mark know?”  
  
There was a long silence and Robbie drew his hand away.  James looked at Robbie.  What he saw caused him to pull the car off to the side of the road next to a busy footpath.  He ignored the angry horn blasts and switched on the hazard lights.  
  
“What is it?”  Robbie’s head was bowed.  
  
“Mark talks to Lyn more than me.  Things haven’t been right between us since...  Lyn offered to tell him, she thought he’d listen to her.  So did I.”  
  
“Robbie...”  
  
“Wait, James.”  Robbie held up a hand.  “She told him, and he told her he wants nothing more to do with me.”  
  
James’s breath hitched and he looked out the side window.  He had never intended to come between Robbie and his children, but neither had he given Mark a lot of thought until now.  Robbie grasped his hand.  
  
“James?  Please look at me.”  
  
James swallowed and turned his head enough to make eye contact.  
  
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t see the point, though I knew you’d ask one day.  Mark’s an adult.  I can’t make decisions for him, I can’t make him accept anything... and I can’t make decisions about how I live my life based on whether or not it makes him happy.  Not anymore.  It doesn’t mean I love him any less – he’s my son – and because of that I have to respect his feelings about us, whether I like it or not.  Mark’s not narrow-minded, I do know that, and maybe one day he’ll come around, but I’m not putting my life – or yours – on hold.  I’ve chosen to be with you, and that’s what matters.”  
  
Robbie’s expression was as open as James had ever seen.  If he could accept Mark’s response with such grace and calm, James could too.  “You’re a remarkable man, Robbie Lewis.”  James’s voice was heavy with wonder.  “I’d kiss you senseless if there weren’t so many people around.”  
  
“Then you’d better get us home quick smart.  I wouldn’t like you to have to suppress your urges too long – it can’t be healthy.”  
  
***  
  
James sat up with his back against the bed head.  Robbie lay between his naked thighs, his head against James’s chest, and James arms wrapped around him.  
  
Robbie chortled suddenly.  
  
“Share the joke?”  
  
“I was...  nah, it’s silly.”  
  
“It’s only Monty and me listening.”  At the sound of his name, Monty jumped onto the bed and started to walk over their legs.  James raised a knee which sent Monty tumbling into the middle of the bed.  “And Monty won’t say anything.”  James ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of Robbie’s ear making him shiver.  
  
“I was just wondering how many of those folks on the footpath would have collided into each other if you had... you know.”  
  
James snorted.  “Is that a dare if there’s a ‘next time’?”  
  
“Don’t even think about it.  Come on.”  Robbie pushed himself into an awkward sitting position.  “Can’t lie here for the rest of the evening.”  
  
“Why not?”  James tried to pull Robbie back to his chest.  
  
“I don’t know about you, but I can’t live on air and lunch was a long time ago.”  
  
James trailed his fingertips delicately down the line of Robbie’s spine, the one finger dipping into the cleft at the base.  “Bath first?  Let me soothe any sore spots?”  
  
***  
  
James remembered his largely inappropriate physical response when he'd first seen the bathroom in their new home.  Like the kitchen, it had been renovated quite recently, but where the kitchen had been designed to be spacious and highly functional, the bathroom had been designed for relaxation and indulgence.  The large whirlpool bath comfortably accommodated both of them, and while it wasn't practical for everyday use – the bathroom also had a separate enclosed shower – it was regularly used after days at the allotment... or other strenuous activity.  
  
Robbie sat between James's thighs.  He was slumped forward so James could massage his back as he washed it.  James's hands worked steadily, and the rhythm and quiet gave him, for good or for bad, the opportunity to think about Robbie and Mark.  Despite Robbie's acceptance of Mark's stance, and his reassurances to James, James wondered if Robbie had been being kind to him.  He became lost in his own thoughts, and it took a moment before he registered Robbie was talking to him.  
  
"I thought I was the relaxed one." There was a smile in Robbie's voice.  "I said – do you want to swap places?"  Robbie looked over his shoulder at him fondly.  
  
James shook his head, and tried to return the smile, though he didn't fool Robbie.  
  
"What's on your mind, love?  You're not trying to work out all the details now, are you?"  
  
James hands worked steadily over Robbie's skin, but he bit his bottom lip nervously.  
  
"I never meant to come between you and Mark.  I know you've..."  
  
Robbie sighed heavily and leant back against James, stilling his hands.  James automatically wrapped his arms and a leg around Robbie and pulled him to his body.  
  
"I know..." James started again.  
  
"James, love..."  Robbie spoke quietly and tried to shift his body to one side.  James loosened his hold to allow Robbie to turn as much as he could in the space they had.  He slipped his legs under Robbie's thighs so Robbie was, in effect, across his lap.  Robbie held himself up so James could see his face.  "You've not come between us.  Please don't ever think you have."  
  
James scowled.  If Robbie's involvement with him wasn't to blame, what was?  Robbie had never mentioned any estrangement before.  In fact, James realised with a jolt, Robbie rarely talked about Mark at all.  That was most likely why Mark had never crossed James's mind before today.  
  
If James's sudden revelation had shown on his face Robbie gave no indication of it, continuing his explanation.  
  
"Please understand I’m not trying to belittle or dismiss what you feel, James, but Mark and I...  The whole truth is things were shaky between us even before Val died.  I tried but, with the job, I wasn’t home enough, not as much as he wanted me to be, and he relied heavily on his mum and sister.  Lyn tried to help us reconnect after... but then she announced she was following Tim to Manchester as soon as she could get a transfer.  Mark was in his first year out after completing his apprenticeship as a motor mechanic, and within six months he was on a plane to Australia.  Lyn rang me about six months before I was due back from the British Virgin Islands to tell me Mark had called to say he'd been granted permanent residency – and could she tell me.  I haven't seen him since, not even a photograph."  
  
James forced himself to breath.  He'd cut all ties with his father while still a teenager, and he found the parallels slightly disturbing, though he did know Robbie had at least had sporadic contact with Mark over the years.  
  
"Have you...?"  James coughed to clear his throat.  "Did you ever think about...?"  James could understand why Mark hadn't come home, but not why Robbie had never gone to Australia.  However, asking the question felt like an invasion of Robbie's privacy.  
  
Robbie was studying him carefully, and James kept eye contact.  Robbie's face didn't change, but James sensed he'd worked out the unfinished question.  
  
Robbie took a deep breath and settled further into James's arms, laying his head against James's shoulder.  "Before Lyn found out she was pregnant, we'd been talking about going to see Mark together.  When she raised it with Mark, he threw up one obstacle after another.  Even she gave up on the idea and our Lyn's nothing if not persistent."  
  
"So you went to Italy instead?"  
  
"We did."  
  
James thought back again to their conversation in the car.  He was puzzled.  "You said Mark wasn’t narrow-minded, that he'd eventually come around."  James cradled Robbie's chin between his finger and thumb, lifting his head slightly to see his face again.  "Do you believe that, or did you say it simply to make me feel better about the situation?"  
  
Robbie pushed himself up slightly and laid his hand gently against James's cheek.  "If I didn't believe it, I wouldn't have said it," he answered, firmly but kind.  "I wouldn't lie to you, James."  James's relief was instant and, judging by Robbie's expression, visible.  Robbie smiled wistfully.  "I do believe, one day, he'll accept our relationship as a statement of fact, if nothing else, and if only for Lyn's sake.  And I hold onto the hope that one day he’ll change how he feels about me – though we’ve been distant for so long, it won’t be easy.  He is who he is, and as I said before, I love him, but I won’t put our lives on hold for him."  
  
James was satisfied.  He did briefly wonder how Mark had felt about Robbie and Laura, or if he’d even known.  He considered asking Robbie, before concluding that if it had any relevance to their relationship, Robbie would have said something.  All that mattered was there nothing here that could cause a rift between them.  James stretched his neck forward, meeting Robbie’s lips.   
  
“Are we good, love?” Robbie murmured against his lips.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
***  
  
When they eventually left the bathroom, they were both very hungry.  Robbie helped James prepare the ingredients for a vegetable frittata.  Robbie set the table and tidied up as James started cooking.  They were both dressed in tracky bottoms, sweatshirts, and socks.   
  
Robbie wandered into the kitchen and leant against the worktop next to the stove.  “Who should we consider as our second witness?”  He stole a piece of mushroom from the frying pan and popped it in his mouth.  
  
“Will we be asking Laura or telling her she has to be there?  Will you stop that?”  James grinned as he swatted at Robbie’s hand making him drop a second piece of mushroom back into the frying pan.  “There’s more in the crisper if you can’t wait.”  James poured the egg mix into the pan.  
  
“Sorry.”  Robbie went to the fridge to dig out the bag of mushrooms.  “I think she’d still like to be asked, even though she’s put her hand up.”  
  
“Then _we_ should ask her together.  Over dinner, perhaps?  She’s still hinting heavily she wants to see the house.  Should we make it a house-warming as well?”  
  
“It’d save the fuss and hassle of a party.”  
  
“We can sort the details later.”  
  
Robbie rinsed the vegetable knife and started slicing the mushroom, eating each slice as he went.  “Who else?  As a witness, not for the dinner.”  
  
James put the pan under the griller to cook the top of the frittata.  “I would have thought Lyn, if she wanted to.  If for some reason she says no, then you know she’ll be okay with whomever we ask instead.”  
  
“Why would she say no?  She’s happy about you and me – unless you’ve picked up something I’ve missed.  
  
“Me?  No.  I’m just covering the options.  Look, dinner’s almost ready.  It won’t be too late by the time we finish; you could call her tonight.  You did say you’d let her know when we set a date.”  
  
Robbie frowned as James put the plates in the oven to warm.  “If she does say ‘no’, who else could we ask?”  
  
“Don’t laugh or dismiss this out of hand, but I think we should seriously consider Innocent.”  
  
“Reasoning?”  Robbie poured two glasses of wine.  
  
“She’s been incredibly supportive.  And I think it would make her very happy.”  
  
“I agree.”  Robbie raised his glass.  “I can see hers and Laura’s matching grins now.  Cheers.”  
  
James laughed.  “Cheers.”  
  
***  
  
“Hang on a second, dad.  I need to put it into Tim’s calendar too so he doesn’t double-book.”  
  
Robbie was lying on the couch with James lying against him in a reversal of their positions from earlier in the evening.  However, this time they were still fully clothed.  James had slumped low so his head was resting against Robbie’s belly.  Because of the angle, Robbie couldn’t see his face properly, but the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated he may have drifted off.  Robbie smiled fondly.  James had been... energetic and enthusiastic, and very giving when they’d arrived home.  
  
“Right, I’m back.  Tim’s looking online for a hotel as we speak.”  
  
“You don’t need a hotel, love, you–”  
  
“Dad, we’re not staying with you on your wedding night.”  
  
“It’s not a wedding, love.”  
  
“You know what I mean.  It would feel... odd.  We both really want to see the house, though.  We’ll stay with you next time we’re down, and all the times after.  Promise.”  
  
“Fair enough.  Look, love, James and I have something we wanted to ask you.  We were wondering if you’d like to be one of our witnesses.”  
  
“Ah.”  Her uncertainty was unmistakable.  “Please don’t take this the wrong way dad…Thank you for asking, but no, thank you.”  
  
“You’ve barely had a chance to think about it, pet.”  
  
“Tim and I started talking about it after your visit, what your plans might include.  You know you have our blessing, even though you don’t need it, but the idea of witnessing your union to anyone feels... inappropriate.”  
  
“Inappropriate, how?”   
  
Lyn quickly cleared his confusion.  “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I really feel your witnesses should be people who’ve watched your relationship grow – even if they didn’t know what they were seeing at the time.  I know you probably don’t feel this way, but I’ve been so far removed I think I might feel like a stranger you’d roped in off the street.  Does that make any sense?”  
  
“Yeah, it does.  I wouldn’t want you do something you weren’t comfortable with.”  
  
“Thanks, dad.  So, who else have you asked, or plan to ask?”  
  
“Well, Laura’s already put her hand up, and we both like the idea.”  
  
Lyn giggled.  “I’d like to see either of you give her a plausible explanation why you didn’t ask her.  Anyone else you can think of?  There must be someone else who wasn’t the least bit surprised you and James were together.”    
  
“CS Innocent – Jean.”  
  
“I think she’d be perfect, dad.  I’d be happy to give you away, though.”  
  
“Cheeky monkey.”  
  
“Is anyone giving anyone away?”  
  
“Not so far as I know – that’s more for a church wedding, though, isn’t it?  And besides, neither of us is a bride.”  
  
“Well, I don’t plan on getting married in a church, but I’ll be expecting you to give me away when the time comes.”  
  
“Wild horses couldn’t stop me, love.”  
  
  
  
James wasn’t asleep.  He was listening to Robbie’s side of the conversation and trying to guess what Lyn was saying.  It was easy enough to work out Laura and Innocent, if she accepted, were going to be their witnesses.  After that he was lost.  
  
He let his mind drift back to the afternoon.  It was happening.  Really happening.  After years of being bound by his childhood and his faith, and by his memories and self-loathing, he was going to place himself in what he saw as the safest, purest bonds of all – his life bound to Robbie’s.  Joy rushed over him and he was grateful he was lying down as the giddiness almost overwhelmed him.  He only realised Robbie’s call had ended when strong arms slipped under his and gently, carefully, pulled him up into a secure embrace.  
  



	11. Chapter 11

 

 

James buried himself deeply inside Robbie as his lover’s body arched underneath him.  He came hard, pulsing as Robbie’s orgasm hit and his come splashed against both their stomachs.   Willing his trembling arms to hold him up a little longer, James gazed down on the body he adored, now stretched out beneath him, sweat and come-streaked, as together they rode out each wave.  He marvelled again at Robbie’s complete trust and love, his own gratitude and love for Robbie threatening to draw a heavy sigh through his breathlessness.   
  
Holding the condom, James carefully withdrew, and lowered himself so he was lying beside a now unconscious Robbie.  As Robbie dozed on his back, sated and at peace, his face lit by the soft glow of the hallway light, James’s eyes drifted over the smooth brow and unlined face, and he sighed contentedly.  He dropped a small kiss against Robbie’s forehead and carefully slipped out of the bed to clean up knowing he had around five minutes.  He returned to the bed with a warm, damp cloth and gently cleaned Robbie, as well as a few small marks on the sheets.  After quickly tossing the cloth back into the bathroom, he curled up against Robbie and drew up the blanket.  He wrapped himself around his lover, laid his head on his shoulder, and waited for Robbie to stir.  
  
  
  
Since their first night together, Robbie had willingly and enthusiastically embraced everything James had shown him.  In the privacy of their new bedroom, with no common walls, and with Robbie’s complete trust, James had been emboldened, slowly pushing the boundaries out.  He had believed they’d reached the pinnacle when, after several nights of patiently teaching Robbie how to stimulate and prepare him, Robbie had entered his body for the first time during the weekend after his exam.  James’s hope that Robbie’s years of experience with Val would take over had been realised and exceeded.  Although cautious at first, Robbie was soon pounding into him with a vigour which James, exhilarated, had not expected.   
  
James briefly closed his eyes as his body responded to his memory.   
  
When he’d come to himself sometime later, Robbie was wrapped around him, an arm across his chest, a bent leg over his thigh.  Moving carefully, so as not to disturb Robbie, James had discovered he was lying on a small hand towel, with all evidence of his shuddering climax cleaned away.  He’d smiled happily to himself as he pictured Robbie padding to the bathroom naked, no doubt with one hand cupping his genitals to prevent Monty taking a swipe; anything which dangled was fair game as far as the cat was concerned.  
  
James had been stunned – and a little humbled – when he’d stepped out of the shower the following morning to find Robbie leaning against the wall, studying him openly and wantonly.  
  
“I want everything with you, James.  This isn’t about superior and subordinate, senior or junior, or about who’s ‘in charge’.  I want to feel what you feel, know what you know.”  
  
James hadn’t known how to respond.  Surely after two decades of marriage, being underneath – not just underneath, being penetrated – would be so foreign a concept to Robbie as to be almost unthinkable.  James had been in both positions and, depending on the partner, was comfortable with either, but Robbie…?  
  
As though he’d heard James’s unspoken quandary, Robbie had continued.  “Everything, James.”  He’d paused and taken a deep breath.  “Val and I were mostly… ‘traditional’… in bed, but there were times when she… Val read these women’s magazines.  Sometimes she...  we’d try things.  Val would use her fingers and…”  
  
James had bitten his lip to try stop the silly grin which threatened to appear as Robbie had started to blush furiously – Robbie’s inability to talk about sex in clear, concise language (probably the result of having his children around) always brought a smile or giggle to James, even though he knew he was only marginally more articulate on the subject.  He’d failed miserably and, at the look of mock-hurt on Robbie’s face, had kissed Robbie senseless in apology and understanding, pressing him back against the wall as the towel slipped from his hips.  James had ended up being rather late for work.  
  
When James had arrived home that night, he’d said nothing, choosing to wait and see if Robbie was still receptive.  As soon as Robbie had kissed him, James had known for certain he was.  
  
As before, it had taken them a few nights, this time as Robbie had grown familiar with his body’s responses.  James hadn’t been in a hurry.  He’d wanted everything to be as perfect as possible.   
  
James pressed his face against Robbie’s shoulder.  He could still hear clearly the moment Robbie had whispered he was ready.  Every word and nuance was etched into James’s memory.  He felt his stomach tremble as he recalled carefully guiding Robbie into the best position, and the sweet moment he had entered him for the first time.  Every grunt, moan and sigh had registered itself in James’s mind as he had taken Robbie, and himself, over the edge.  
  
Robbie snuffled and blindly reached for James, who obliged by half rolling onto him.   
  
“I’m here, Robbie, my love.”


	12. Chapter 12

Robbie thumped through the door and dropped the grey archive box on the floor at the base of the stairs.  James, already showered and dressed in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, poked his head out of the front room.  He had his iPad in one hand and a toasted sandwich in the other.  
  
“Hello, pet.  You must have been home bloody early.”  
  
“Just after five.  Is that them, then?”  James nodded at the box.  
  
“Yep, should keep me out of mischief for a while.”  
  
“Well, that’s a bugger.”  James darted forward and kissed him, tasting of toast, cheese and tomato.  “I guess I’ll just have to put tonight’s plans on hold then.”  
  
“Not if you help me get started.”  Robbie took hold of James’s waist to stop him scooting away.  “You’re in a bright mood.  Crack it, did you?”  
  
“And finished all the paperwork for CPS.  How about...  I make you...  something...  to eat...  while you...  go and shower?”  James interspersed his words with small flicks of his tongue as he tried to get the crumbs off Robbie’s face and kiss him at the same time.  
  
“I’ve already eaten, but a quick shower’ll be good.  Might save some time later.”  
  
James’s good humour was infectious, and with a playful swipe at James’s arse, Robbie headed upstairs and contemplated the prize he’d brought home.  
  
  
  
Although he had James, and the allotment to go to, Robbie had begun to feel a little stifled by his quiet retirement.  Shortly after they’d put the offer in on the house, he’d gone into the station to pick up some additional documents relating to his retirement and pension.  While he’d waited for his appointment, he’d studied the notice board.  The last time he’d had a good look at that particular board was shortly before James had firmly stated, “if you go I go.”  This time, however, instead of early retirement options and severance packages, it had offered various volunteering roles which were available in the wider community.  
  
One had immediately caught Robbie’s eye.  A nearby aged care facility was looking for people who would be willing to help out with a range of roles from carer’s assistant (with training provided) through to providing a transport service to assist less mobile residents attend various appointments or simply have an outing.  Robbie had stopped at the village on his way home and, after a short impromptu interview with the Director herself, had found himself with a sheaf of forms to complete and return.  
  
“They ask for a minimum commitment of six months, and it’s only one day a week,” Robbie had explained to James.  “They don’t like to wear out their volunteers.”  
  
James had been delighted.  “I’d been starting to wonder if the ‘peacefulness’ of retirement wasn’t already paling for you.  You’re not a person who likes to stay idle for long.”   
  
Neither had been surprised when Robbie’s day often extended into the evening, though it was still a rare occasion if he was home before James.  
  
The week before Robbie had come home talking about the passing of a long-term resident.  Robbie had played many games of draughts with the former history teacher, and by listening to him reminisce had learnt some facts about Oxford he’d never known before.  Robbie had shared a few of the more interesting snippets with James, who had later been able to confirm the old man had been one hundred percent correct.  A few days later, Robbie had been surprised to learn he had been mentioned in the will – a box of unsorted cigarette cards, with many dating back to the 1920s.  Robbie had been shown the ‘collection’ once before and had been fascinated by it.  He’d been delighted it was now his, but had hesitantly told James about his ‘inheritance’, not completely expecting him to understand his excitement.  He needn’t have worried, as James had instantly given him a potted history of the cards and their interest to collectors.  
  
“Is there anything you don’t know something about?”  Robbie had shaken his head in amazement.  James had looked happily smug in response.  
  
  
  
The box was no longer in the entry hall when Robbie came back downstairs.  He found James in the study humming to himself.  The archive box was on Robbie’s desk and James had laid out a number of smaller boxes, each labelled with a decade.  
  
“Explain this, Einstein.”  Robbie wrapped his arms around James’s waist and looked over his shoulder.  
  
“You said some date back to the twenties, so sorting by decade in the first instance seemed a logical place to start.”  
  
“And it would be if they were all neatly dated.”  
  
“Ah.”  James drew away and turned to face Robbie, a hint of disappointment marking his face.  
  
“It can be done though.”  Robbie slipped a hand under James’s elbow and drew him back towards him.  “There are catalogues you can buy to help you identify the various sets.  I found them on the internet and they should arrive next week.”  
  
The look of amazement on James’s face was well worth the hour he’d spent swearing softly at the computer until he’d stumbled on the Cartophilic Society of Great Britain’s website.  The flash of desire was unexpected.  
  
“Is it wrong,” James whispered, “that I find that... a little arousing?”  
  
“It’s, ah, a wee bit... unusual.”  
  
“Does it bother you?”  James stepped closer.  
  
“Not entirely.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
“Cheeky beggar.”  
  
“It’s why you love me.”  
  
“Sod.”  
  
They stared at each other for a long silent moment.  James stretched one hand out and pushed at the archive box.  “Do you want to start this tonight?”  
  
“There’s no rush.  I should really be thinking about Saturday dinner.”  
  
“The happy house-warming, you mean.”  
  
“That, too.  Did either Laura or Jean indicate they were bringing anyone?”  
  
James shook his head.  “I think they’re each other’s date again.”  He glanced at the clock.  “It’s past nine.  A bit late in the day to do too much about it now.”  
  
Robbie cradled James’s neck.  “I’d say you’re right.  Upstairs?”  
  
James took Robbie’s other hand and led the way upstairs, flicking off the lights as they went.

 

**********

 

It was after midnight when James arrived home a couple of nights later.  He opened the front door as quietly as possible, keeping an eye out for Monty.  James had been ready to go home hours earlier, but chose to work late to finish the arrest reports, tying the ends of the current case together.  Crimes against children were the ones that disturbed him the most.  They'd been lucky to find the toddler, snatched from his mother by his paternal grandfather, before he was too dehydrated.  James could still hear the older man's protests that he'd done it for the child's own good.  It was the earnestness in his voice that struck James hardest: the old man honestly believed he'd been doing the right thing.  James wanted to be rid of the case there and then, and if working late meant he didn't have to think about it over the weekend, he would have stayed until dawn.  
  
The hall light was on, while the rest of the house was in darkness, a sign that Robbie had gone to bed.  James toed off his shoes, slipping them into the shoe rack next to the small hall table, on which sat a small bowl into which he carefully placed his keys.  He wandered through to the kitchen, pulling off his tie.  He draped it over the back of one of the dining chairs and hung his jacket over the top.  The hall light cast enough glow into the room for him to see what he was doing.  Opening the fridge, he found the half-full bottle of sauvignon blanc left over from dinner the night before and poured himself a glass.  He returned the bottle to the fridge, and took out a cling film covered plate containing left over roast chicken and some boiled new potatoes. He considered and discarded reheating them.  Glass and plate in hand, James closed the fridge with his elbow and stepped away.  He stopped abruptly.  Putting the glass on the worktop, James reached back into the fridge for the wine, tucking the bottle under his elbow against his ribs.  Satisfied, he retrieved his glass and went through to the front room.  
  
James put the glass on the coffee table and picked up Robbie's discarded Oxford Mail.  Laying it flat, James placed the plate, bottle and glass on top.  The coffee table was new, and both he and Robbie were being quite fussy about using mats and coasters.  After switching on the lamp and dousing the hall light, James let himself sink into the couch.  He took a long drink of wine then refilled the glass, emptying the bottle.  He felt the alcohol hit his bloodstream and sighed deeply.  A soft noise near the door drew his attention.  Monty.  
  
James listened carefully for any further movement.  Monty leapt onto the table with a soft thud and began to examine the covered plate.  
  
"Oi, you," James whispered, scooping up the cat.  "That's mine.  I know Robbie's already fed you."  
  
He cocked his ear, convinced he'd heard footsteps.  Knowing his plate wouldn't be safe if he left it with Monty, James carried him as he crept up the stairs.  Peeking into the bedroom, he watched Robbie as he slept.  James was torn between sating his need to eat and dissect the day, and crawling between the sheets.  
  
He went back downstairs.  
  
James uncovered the plate. Biting into a potato, he began to pull the chicken off the bone.  He dropped small morsels onto the paper, just enough to keep Monty from shoving his nose into the food on the plate.  James began to talk quietly to Monty, telling him how they discovered the grandfather still had access to several outbuildings on one of the larger estates north of the city.  His appetite appeased, James re-covered the plate and lifted Monty onto his lap.  He began to scratch the cat's head, switching between stroking his back and under his chin.  Monty's heavy purring was soothing.  
  
James began to pour out everything he felt about the case, from his frustration at Hooper's reluctance or inability to follow a simple directive from Peterson, to his confusion over the grandfather's actions, and relief that the boy was safe.  Monty was a good listener and, unlike another person, he didn’t interrupt.  
  
James’s mood swung from calm, to perplexed, becoming vitriolic, coming full circle back to calm.  
  
"His grandfather really, really loves him, but absolutely loathes his former daughter-in-law.  You should have heard him trying to defend himself – he genuinely couldn't see he'd put the boy in danger."  James barely stopped himself thumping the arm of the couch.  He gritted his teeth.  "How anyone could think locking someone in a poorly ventilated room on a day when the forecast was for a maximum of thirty Celsius is beyond me."  James forced his breath out through pursed lips, his shoulders sagging as he did so.  "I don't know, Monty.  Maybe he’s in the early stages of Alzheimer's, or dementia.  Perhaps he was simply blinkered by his love for the boy or his hatred of his mother."  
  
James sighed heavily.  Monty rolled on his lap, exposing his belly, and James took the hint, scratching – almost massaging – Monty's belly.  The action helped James settle himself again.  He rocked his head back against the couch, and startled when he saw Robbie standing in the doorway.  
  
"Robbie!  I'm... I didn't mean to disturb you.  Sorry."  
  
"You didn't wake me, love.  Me bladder did.  That'll teach me to drink more than two cups of tea after dinner."  
  
James laughed quietly, sobering as Robbie sat down, wrapped an arm over his shoulder and kissed his cheek.  
  
"How much did you hear?" James asked quietly.  
  
"How much do you want me to have heard?"  Robbie gently tugged James’s head towards him, resting his cheek against the top of James's head.  
  
"None.  All.  I don't know," James murmured.  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"Does it bother you?  It's not exactly leaving it at the door."  
  
"No, it's not.  But you're not bottling it up, either.  And, no, it doesn't bother me."  
  
"Then I suppose it doesn't matter how much you heard."  
  
"Monty seems to be carrying the weight well – he’s got broad shoulders."  
  
Monty had started to softly snuffle on James's lap, the closest he ever came to a snore.  
  
James chuckled softly.  "He is, isn't he?"  
  
“Did it help?  Talking to the cat?”  James heard the curiosity in Robbie’s voice.  
  
“It has before.”  James smiled to himself when he felt Robbie’s body twitch slightly.  
  
“What?  You’ve done this before?  When?  How...?”  Robbie’s breath hitched as he stopped himself.  
  
“This is the third time.  You slept through the previous two.  The first time was out of sheer frustration; it was 2am and I knew you’d been at allotment most of the day.  I thought telling Monty might help me calm down enough to at least allow me to get some sleep.  I was astounded at the difference it made to my overall mood.  I did consider the possibility it was a one-off, a quirk of timing and my own tiredness, but it happened again last week.”  
  
Robbie made a quiet sound of surprise.  
  
“You truly don’t mind?”  James had heard Robbie talk to Monty on numerous occasions, though never about anything as intense as a case.  
  
“Not at all.”  
  
They sat in peaceful silence.  Monty grew heavy in James's lap, and James’s eyes began to close as Robbie carded his fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp.  
  
He felt Robbie press his lips against the top of his head and shift subtly in his seat.  
  
"James, love?"  
  
"Mmm hmm?"  
  
"How is it all going?  It's... I've tried to stand back and let you do things your way, but you don't say much and I want to understand, pet.  I know you don't want me to fuss."  
  
James turned his head to look at Robbie, and pressed his fingers to Robbie's lips.  He carefully slipped Monty onto the couch before twisting so he could sit up and face Robbie.  
  
"I haven't really understood myself until recently," he explained, letting his hand drop.  "I hadn't wanted to say anything until I was confident I was finally on the right path, and it wasn't a method that worked for one case and one case only."  
  
"And now?" Robbie asked hesitantly.  
  
James picked up Robbie's hand from where it lay loosely in his lap.  
  
"I've made a conscious decision to try to look for some good in those I come across, be they victim, perpetrator, witnesses, family – sometimes even other officers.  The tiniest glimmer of light can help relieve some of the darkness, you know.  And before you say anything..."  He gave Robbie a wry smile.  "...I am realistic enough to realise that I won't always find something."  
  
Although James wanted hold Robbie close to him, he had to keep his focus on Robbie's face.  It was important he was certain Robbie not only understood what he was trying to say, but that Robbie knew he believed in what he was doing.  
  
"I struggled because I used to believe that people were basically good, and that changed.  I'd go home at night and stare in the mirror at the person I'd become, and feel ill.  I'd lost myself."  
  
James took a deep breath, thankful that Robbie was letting him talk without interrupting.  
  
"Do I once again believe people are basically good?  No.  Not really.  Not all.  But I do believe most try to be, and that's something.  I think I wanted to believe in others because it was something to hold onto, to give me some hope for the future.  I'm learning accept it isn't so because... because I have you.  Because now I come home to someone who loves me for who I am, unconditionally.  And you've taught me how to love myself.  That in itself has made the greatest difference.  It's a gift I'll never be able to repay."  
  
Robbie cradled James’s cheek.  "You already have, love."

 

**********

 

James half rose in his seat and stretched across the table to refill the wine glasses.  
  
“Not for me, thanks, James.”  Jean put a hand over her glass.  “Somehow I ended up as designated driver – again.”  She looked at Laura who smiled sweetly and turned her attention back to Robbie.  James had taken the empty bottle to the sink.  
  
“Well, boys, I have to say this is delightful, and we’re both very flattered you chose us to be your first guests.  Although you do realise you’ll still have to have a _real_ house-warming party at some stage?”  Laura waggled her finger at him while Jean attempted to hold her best scowl.  “I was expecting music, dancing, and large amounts of alcohol and flirting.”  
  
“I’ll bear that in mind.”  Robbie raised his glass to her, took a drink and cleared his throat.  “There is a good reason it’s just the four of us tonight.”  He had Laura and Jean’s attention.  James moved his chair closer to Robbie before he sat back down.  
  
“We’ve booked a date for our civil partnership, and...”  He raised his voice slightly to delay their congratulations.  “...we’d like to ask you if you would be our witnesses.”  
  
“You know my answer.”  Laura’s eyes glistened.  “Name the date and the place and I’m there.”  
  
“With bells on, I hope,” quipped James.  
  
“Oh, you know me too well, James.  Jean?”  The silence from the fourth seat at the table was noticeable.  
  
It had been some time since Robbie or James had managed to render Jean completely speechless and Robbie was astonished to realise he actually missed that look.  
  
“Me?  What about Lyn?  She’s your daughter?  Has she...”  Jean’s eyes darted under her worried frown.  
  
“We’ve already asked Lyn.”  Robbie repeated Lyn’s reasoning and Jean’s joyful expression soon matched Laura’s.  
  
“I’d be delighted.  And honoured.  Last time I was a witness, well, chief bridesmaid, was... never mind.  Enough of that from you, Hathaway.”  James had failed to hide a smirk.  “I’m still your boss and the one who can veto any leave request.”  She tipped her head slightly to one side.  “Will you be taking leave, having a honeymoon, or whatever politically correct term they give it?”  
  
“I believe it’s known as a holiday,” James answered.  “And... I hadn’t even thought about it, to be honest.  Robbie?”  
  
Robbie felt sure his expression matched James’s.  “Nope.  Not a moment’s thought.”  
  
Laura fixed them both with a stare.  “When exactly is the happy day?”  Robbie told her.  “Then may I suggest you think about it soon?  Anywhere in particular you might like to go?  Five weeks isn’t a lot of time if you’re going to consider going overseas, especially at this time of year.”  
  
Laura and Jean spent the rest of the evening offering serious and silly suggestions for potential holiday destinations, while trying to wheedle out details of Robbie and James’s plans for their partnership.  
  
“Not having a rehearsal I can understand, civil ceremonies rarely have them, but no stag night?  No one giving anyone away?  No bouquet?”  Laura was disappointed.  “Are you going to observe any traditions?”  
  
“It’s not exactly a traditional wedding, Laura.”  Robbie was amused.  
  
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make an effort.  Come on, there has to be something.”  
  
Robbie and James exchanged a glance.  
  
“Okay.  We’ve bought matching rings...”  
  
“I’m in charge of arranging the engraving,” James interjected.  
  
“...we’ve got two witnesses...”  
  
“Which is a legal requirement, not a tradition.”  Jean leant her elbows on the table and cradled her chin in one hand.  
  
“...and we’ve booked a restaurant for dinner after the ceremony.  It’ll be the four of us here, plus Lyn and Tim.”  
  
“What about the rest of your guests?”  Laura asked.  “Or is it just the six of us at the registry office as well?”  
  
“We haven’t decided on final numbers yet, but the room only holds twenty-five guests,” James explained.  “It shouldn’t be too difficult to arrange _something_ on short notice for a small group.”  
  
“That’s something, I suppose,” conceded Laura.  
  
James nudged Robbie’s shin with his toe.  When Robbie looked at him, James was leaning on his hand, one cufflink peeking over the cuff of his jumper.  
  
“Ah.”  Robbie took the hint.  “I, erm, I also proposed to James.  Properly.  On bended knee.  Is that traditional enough for you?”  
  
Robbie and James blushed furiously at their happy sighs.


	13. Chapter 13

Robbie sat back on his heels and checked his phone again.  James had sent a text message shortly after he would have arrived at work, letting Robbie know his exam results were in and he was meeting with Innocent.  Since then Robbie had heard nothing and he’d resisted sending any messages of his own.  There could be any number of reasons for James’s silence.  Robbie had no doubts James had passed, but had he passed well enough to satisfy himself?  
  
In the absence of any other details, and in the face of a frustratingly silent phone, Robbie turned his attention back to his allotment rows.  
  
  
  
Robbie started as his hat was lifted from his head and a kiss placed on his forehead.  He’d dozed off in the deckchair after lunch.  He looked up and squinted against the glare.  
  
“Hello, love.  What brings you here?”  
  
James pulled the other deckchair from the shed and set it up next to Robbie’s.  He clasped Robbie’s hand when he sat down.  
  
“We’re waiting on some forensic results.  Peterson suggested I might like to take a long lunch, deal with any business I might have.”  
  
“Hope you bought your own lunch.”  Robbie squeezed James’s hand.  “Or am I the ‘business’?”  
  
“I ate a sandwich on the way over.  And you are _never_ business.  You’re my life.”  
  
“I’m sorry, love.  I never meant to…”  James’s forgiving smile eased the pang of guilt he felt.  “You’re my life, too.”  
  
“S’okay.”  James sank low in the chair.  “My score was ‘Exceptional’.”  
  
“Well done, love.”  
  
“No ‘I told you so’.”  
  
“Never.”  
  
James kissed Robbie gently on the cheek.  “Thank you,” he whispered.  “Innocent said it.”  
  
“She never?”  
  
James exhaled heavily.  “As good as.  And the paperwork to process and finalise my Step Three and commence Step Four was completed and awaiting my signature before I walked into the office.”  
  
“You’ve always known she was eager to get you moving up.  Shouldn’t have been a surprise.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Was Peterson in the meeting with you?”  
  
“No.  Innocent spoke to him separately.  She did let me know what’s going to happen, though.  Do you have anything to drink?”  
  
Robbie held up a bottle of water and a Thermos flask.  James took the water and drank half in one go.  
  
“Peterson will be my supervisor – I did say it could happen.  The Chief Constable expressed concerns about Innocent taking on the role, fearing her own work could be compromised, so Peterson’s going to be granted a temporary appointment to DCI, which will place him as a front runner when they start looking at officers for promotion over the next twelve months.  However, until it’s official I’ll be working under Peterson _and_ Innocent’s joint supervision.  Julie Lockhart’s been confirmed to be my bagman.  She’ll be sitting her sergeant’s OSPRE next year, about three months before my assessment period is up, and Peterson will supervise us both for the remaining time until my appointment to DI is finalised.”  
  
“And then you’d take over Julie’s supervision?”  
  
“If Innocent thinks I’m capable, yes.”  
  
They sat in comfortable silence.  Robbie held James’s hand on his lap.  
  
James sighed heavily.  
  
“My score was...”  
  
“‘Exceptional’ – you told me, love,” Robbie said lightly.  “The number’s just a detail, and as far as I’m concerned, the only person who _needs_ to know is you.”  
  
James huffed as his shoulders relaxed.  “Perhaps, but I’d like you to know.  Ninety-six.”  
  
“That's a bloody good mark. You should be proud.”  Robbie stretched across the gap and James turned his face to meet his lips.  Robbie kept his hand against James’s cheek.  “You pipped me by four, you know.”  He rocked back into the chair.  
  
“You got ninety-two?”  
  
Robbie waited for the tongue-in-cheek comment he was sure was brewing.  At the time, while CS Strange had been pleased, Morse had all but accused him of cheating.  He'd forgiven Morse, of course; he’d been ill and, Robbie realised later, not a little afraid.  
  
James grinned smugly.  Not at Robbie, though.  It was a small, self-satisfied one.  He squirmed as close to Robbie as the chairs would allow.  
  
“No comment, then?” Robbie asked.  
  
“Oh, no!  I know what hides under your unassuming Geordie exterior.”  James grew serious.  “Do you want the truth?”  
  
Robbie nodded.  
  
“Grainger took great delight in telling me that you’d ‘passed with flying colours’, and that your score was in the top ten of results attained by a St Aldates’ officer.  Apparently it was common knowledge at the time and he was a bit surprised I hadn’t found out before.  I think he was implying I may have been nosy enough to snoop.  Anyway...”  He placed a finger on Robbie’s lips before whichever point that had caused the scowl produced actual words.  “My biggest fear was I'd be overconfident, fall short, and disappoint you.  I’m positive Innocent was a bit put out with my score.”  He pressed his finger harder when Robbie tried to speak.  “Oh, she didn't say anything but it was there in the set of her shoulders.  If I didn't know better, I'd swear she had a bet on it – and lost.”  
  
Robbie felt his face grow warm.  The look James gave him confirmed he had blushed.  
  
“I, ah, know for a fact Innocent had a bet on your score,” Robbie mumbled.  
  
“What?  James snorted in disbelief.  
  
“Laura told me.  The bet was with her.  Innocent reckoned you’d get a perfect score, Laura said you wouldn’t but your score would be in the nineties.  So Laura wins.”  
  
“Do you know what the bet was?”  
  
Robbie grinned.  “I believe it involved dinner at one of Oxford’s finest restaurants and very expensive champagne.”  
  
“Perhaps we should find out when and make it a double date.”  
  
James’s phone beeped loudly, cutting off Robbie’s response.  James checked the message and shoved the phone roughly back into his pocket.  
  
“Duty calls, I’m afraid.  Forensic results are in.  I have to pick up Peterson and we’re off to Didcot.  Hopefully it won’t be a late night.”  James glanced around quickly, and then slipped his hand over Robbie’s thigh and up to his groin.  He leant in close.  “I’m hoping we have time to celebrate properly,” he murmured against Robbie’s lips.  
  
James left Robbie flushed and semi-hard, his hat resting over his lap.


	14. Chapter 14

With the table cleared, the kitchen tidy, and the dishwasher churning away quietly, James followed Lyn through to the front room.  James took in the softly lit room at a glance.  Laura and Jean had settled in the armchairs.  Tim and Robbie were sitting at opposite ends of the couch.  Monty had taken up his place on the back of the armchair Jean was on.  She barely noticed him.  
  
Laura was talking to Tim.  “I was sorry to hear you couldn’t bring Matthew down this time.  It would have been lovely to see him there on his Grandpa’s big day.”  
  
“We were all set to until he came down with the ear infection.  We didn’t want to put him through the three hour drive, never mind everything else.  Poor wee fella would have been overwhelmed.  Thankfully – if that’s the right word – my brother and I regularly suffered from ear infections, so mum’s familiar with what to do.  Unfortunately, it does mean we can only stay two nights, not the four we’d hoped.”  
  
James went to sit on the arm of the couch, until Lyn stopped him.  
  
“You sit in the middle, James; I can sit on Tim’s knee.”  
  
He sat down gratefully and pressed his body close to Robbie who hugged him, drawing him nearer.  James was facing Laura, who was studying him and Robbie thoughtfully.  A soft smile appeared when he caught her eye.  
  
“James?”  His head swivelled towards Jean.  She was watching him expectantly.  
  
“Oh, my apologies, miles away.”  
  
Jean smiled indulgently.  “I was asking if you knew what impact the Same Sex Marriage Bill would have on you, if any, once Parliament gets its act together and passes it.”  
  
“I believe we’ll be able to convert the civil partnership to a marriage if we want to, otherwise it won’t really change anything.”  
  
“And will you?”  Laura sat forward, her eyes drifting between Robbie and James.  
  
James looked to Robbie, taking in the small details on his face.  “It’s quite possible.”  
  
Robbie set his eyes on Laura.  “You look well pleased.”  
  
“Well... it’s a perfect excuse for a new outfit without the guilt, isn’t it, ladies?”  
  
Lyn and Jean nodded their agreement.  Tim groaned and covered his face.  
  
Jean checked her watch.  “So, gentlemen, sixteen more hours and it’s Mr and Mr.  How do you feel?  Nervous?  Excited?”  
  
“Ready.”  Robbie took hold of James’s left hand and rubbed his thumb over the place where James’s wedding band would lie.  
  
“Ready.” James swallowed down the fluttering in his chest.  “And a bit... impatient.”  
  
“Have you written your own vows?”  Lyn had curled up in Tim’s lap.  “I bet you could come up with something wonderful, James.”  
  
“Actually,” James stuttered, looking to Robbie.  
  
“I wanted to use a variation on the traditional vows, but we were told we couldn’t.”  Robbie’s face briefly darkened.  “We talked it about it a little and agreed we’d rather keep it simple.  Neither of us is big on fuss and fancy gestures.”  
  
Everyone was quiet for a moment.  James rested his head against Robbie’s shoulder.  Lyn and Tim changed places, as Lyn curled up on the couch and Tim sat cross legged on the floor next to her, his arm up on the seat.  
  
Jean leant forward and put her glass on the table.  “How many people did you end up inviting?”  
  
“We invited around twenty, not including us,” James answered.  “There’re Alan and Julie, naturally, the guys from my band and their partners, and rest were chosen from those who were at Robbie’s retirement when we... announced our relationship.  It seemed silly to have the space in the room and not make use of it.”  
  
“And then it’s drinks at the Victoria Arms in Old Marston, before the six of us head off to dinner – is that right, dad?”  Lyn failed to stifle a yawn.  “Oh, god.  Sorry, dad.  Getting Matthew settled at Tim’s parents and the drive down have knocked me for six.”  
  
“Don’t stay on our account, love, a good sleep’s important.”  
  
“On that note...”  Jean rose to her feet. “...we should probably push off as well.”  
  
Laura hooked her arm through Robbie’s as they walked outside to the cars.  “Are, um... are you both staying here tonight – you and James?”  
  
“Course we are.”  His brow furrowed in puzzlement.  
  
Laura tutted.  “It’s unlucky.  Groom and groom shouldn’t be under the same roof the night before your wedding.  Nor are you supposed to see each other before the ceremony.”  
  
“We’re not superstitious, and this is 2013, not 1913.  And it’s the dress that shouldn’t be seen.  I’m fairly confident we both have new suits.”  
  
“Are you absolutely sure?” teased James in a stage whisper.  
  
Robbie wrapped an arm around James’s waist and anchored him at his side.  “Oi, you, don’t egg her on – she doesn’t need any help.”  
  
“You can be such a spoil-sport, Robbie Lewis.”  Laura pouted playfully and kissed his cheek then James’s.  “We’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.  Don’t be late, or I’ll start some saucy rumours simply because I can.”  
  
“You wouldn’t dare,” Robbie challenged.  
  
“Want to try me and find out?”  
  
“Good night, Laura.  Jean, get her home safely.  Please,” Robbie implored.  
  
“I have no choice, I won the coin toss to see who’d drive tonight.”  
  
“Ah, I wondered why you only had the one...  Wait?  You won and you’re the designated driver?  How’d that happen?”  
  
Jean grinned triumphantly.  “The loser has to drive tomorrow.”  
  
Robbie roared with laughter at the filthy look Laura threw at Jean.


	15. Chapter 15

James tugged at his collar again and, once again, Laura straightened his tie and buttonhole.  
  
“Calm down, James, there’s plenty of time and your home isn’t too far from here.  It’s not like they have to get across the centre of Oxford.”  
  
James huffed in annoyance.  “I can’t believe we left the rings at home.  Completely forgot about them.  I know Innocent was worried Robbie might not take due care driving, but they both didn’t need to go.  The ring boxes are on the breakfast bar – Robbie could have simply given Innocent the house key.  Anyway, I thought you were driving today?”  James frowned.  
  
“I am.  We’re using Jean’s car, though, and she picked me up on the way.  As to your other concern, Robbie probably just wants to be absolutely certain there’s no delay in finding the rings.  Despite your declarations that you’re both ready for today, Robbie’s just as nervous as you are, James.  Don’t frown at me, James Hathaway.  It’s perfectly normal and acceptable to be nervous on a day like today.  It’s lucky for you the registrar asked about rings along with everything else when he was checking your details.  And for goodness’ sake, James, do try to call her Jean today.”  
  
“I’ll try.”  
  
“I’m sure it won’t be that difficult – you seem to have managed to stop calling Robbie ‘sir’.”  
  
James pressed his lips together.  He’d stopped calling Robbie ‘sir’ outside work quite unconsciously once he’d been given permission to use his name.  He couldn’t see Jean Innocent doing that anytime soon.  He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.  He’d have to try.  He could imagine the looks Innocent – Jean – would give him.  
  
“Deep breaths, James.  You still have ten minutes before you’re on.  Lyn and Tim are meeting your guests, along with Julie – fortunately, Lyn met most of them at Robbie’s retirement, so that will help.  Will you leave your collar alone?”  She tapped the back of his hand.  
  
“Sorry,” James mumbled.  
  
Laura met his gaze with kindness.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite this nervous, James.  It’s rather endearing.”  
  
James sighed heavily.  
  
“James?  What is it?”  
  
“I’m terrified I’m going to let Robbie down, hurt him.”  
  
Laura lightly gripped his upper arms, holding his attention.  “You’re not planning on leaving him at the altar, are you?”  
  
“God, no!"  James frowned.  
  
“Do you plan on having an affair at some stage?”  
  
“No!  Why are you...?”  
  
“Are you going to stop loving him?”  
  
“Laura, how can you say that?”  James was beginning to shake.  Whether it was from anger or hurt he couldn’t tell.  
  
Laura looked at him with undisguised love and care.  “James, love, you’re not going to hurt him or let him down.  The only way you could ever do that is to betray him, to do one of those three things I’ve just asked you.  Robbie loves you completely and unconditionally.  You can make mistakes, you can admit your fears, you can be angry, you can even fail at something – you’re human, James, it’s normal.”  
  
James felt himself steady.  “Thank you.”  
  
He bent down and kissed her cheek as Robbie and Jean walked into the room.  
  
“Hello, hello, what’s going on here, then?”  Jean stood with arms crossed and eyebrows raised.  
  
Laura stepped across and linked their arms together.  “Oh, just ensuring the tradition of the ‘last-minute fling’ was upheld.”  
  
“Laura Hobson, you can be incorrigible.”  Jean rocked against her arm.  “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”  
  
James looked from Jean to Robbie.  “The rings?”  
  
Jean removed a small square box from her bulging clutch and handed it to Laura.  “One for you and one for...”  
  
“Wait.”  James held out one hand.  
  
Jean blinked.  “Robbie said you’d like us to hold onto the rings until it’s time to exchange them.”  
  
“We do, but you need to make sure you’ve got the right one.  Robbie’s inscription begins with my initials, mine with his.”  
  
Laura examined the ring in her hand.  She handed it back to Jean and kept her hand out for the other box.  “Right, that’s sorted.  I have your ring for Robbie.”  
  
Somewhere outside the room a small chime sounded.  
  
“You’re on, gentlemen.”  
  
  
  
Robbie and James had opted against making a grand entrance.  They simply walked in behind Laura and Jean and took their place in the vacant seats at the front of the room.  Laura sat first, with James to her right, followed by Robbie, then Jean.  
  
No matter how hard he tried, Robbie couldn’t remember the name of the piece of music that was playing.  They’d needed a piece for the beginning of the service, the signing of the schedule, and for after the ceremony.  James had played a range of pieces for each and together they’d narrowed it down.  Robbie remembered one piece came from a movie soundtrack and one was Mozart.  The third piece escaped him completely.  He did remember he’d found them all uplifting.  
  
He felt James squeeze his hand as the registrar began.  
  
“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, my name is Joseph.  I’m the registrar and it’s my pleasure to welcome you to the Civil Partnership of Robert… my apologies, Robbie and James.  This place in which we are gathered has been duly sanctioned according to law for the registration of Civil Partnerships.  If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this partnership they should declare it now.”  
  
To Robbie the pause felt interminable.  He remembered this part of his marriage to Val.  He’d kept expecting Val’s mother to protest.  She’d never believed him quite good enough.  
  
After what was probably only a few seconds, the registrar continued and Robbie released his breath.  
  
“Today marks the beginning of the rest of Robbie and James’s lives together.  By entering into a Civil Partnership today the bond between them will grow stronger day by day, month by month and year after year.  Robbie and James will build upon the love and commitment they have already shown to one another – love which has brought us all here for this celebration today.”  
  
He beckoned Robbie and James to stand before him.  As they clasped hands, Robbie felt the last traces of nervousness flow away.  He saw James’s shoulders relax, and when James looked at him it was with love and complete trust.  
  
“Robbie and James, in the presence of your witnesses, friends and family the words you are both about to say declare your love and commitment to one another.”  
  
At a nod from the registrar, Robbie took a deep breath and spoke the words he’d committed to heart.  
  
“James, I promise I will be there for you each and every day, in good times and bad I will be by your side, I will be your guardian, your partner and support you on our lifelong journey together.”  
  
There was barely a breath before James spoke his vows, love flowing through every word, his voice growing stronger and more confident.  
  
“Robbie, I promise I will honour and respect you, I will love and care for you through good fortune and adversity, and I will strive to live with you in love and happiness for the rest of our life together.”  
  
Robbie could hear quiet sniffling behind him.  It had to be Lyn.  She always cried at weddings.  He wanted to look at her.  He couldn’t take his eyes off James.  
  
The registrar continued.  “Ladies and gentlemen, Robbie and James have brought rings with them today.  The full circle of the rings symbolises the complete love between two people.”  
  
Jean and Laura stepped forward and handed over the rings.  They stood together to one side behind James.  Robbie smiled gratefully at them and James twisted to look at them.  Robbie couldn’t see his face, but whatever James did caused Jean to smile more brightly than Robbie had ever seen.  A single happy tear slipped down Laura’s cheek.  
  
“Robbie and James will now exchange rings and say the words that will formally declare them both civil partners in law.”  
  
Robbie lifted James’s left hand, once again rubbing his thumb over the base of his ring finger.  
  
“This ring is a token of my love and a sign of the promise I make to you today.”  
  
James’s fingers lightly stroked Robbie’s palm as he pushed the ring over Robbie’s knuckle.  
  
“I give you this ring to wear with love and joy.  As a ring has no end, neither has my love for you.  I choose you to be my husband this day and forevermore.”  
  
He placed Robbie’s hand over his heart.  
  
The registrar gave them and their guests time to take in the moment.  For Robbie, the only person in the room was James.  Quietly, the registrar’s voice broke through.  
  
“As with all legal proceedings there are a few routine matters which must be observed: the declarations, and the paperwork.  Robbie?”  
  
Robbie turned at his name.  “Aye, right.”  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Laura press her hand against her mouth.  Jean didn’t hide her indulgent smile.  Robbie cleared his throat.  
  
“I declare I know of no legal reason why we may not register as partners.  I understand that on signing this document we will be forming a civil partnership with each other.”  
  
James repeated the declaration immediately, without prompting.  
  
The registrar gestured towards a small side table.   
  
“We will now sign the schedule, which will bind Robbie and James together in law.”  
  
James kept a tight grip on Robbie’s hand and led him to the table, closely followed by Jean and Laura.  
  
James signed first.  Robbie sat in the second chair next to him, one arm around his back, his hand resting against James’s hip.  He used the opportunity to look around at their gathered family and friends.  They had asked Tim to take their ‘official’ photographs, and Robbie was aware of him for the first time as he crouched in front of the table.  Lyn had been crying, her nose bright red, as had Julie.  Lyn beamed at her dad when he caught her eye.  A hand on his elbow indicated the registrar was ready for him.  
  
James’s leant in close, resting his cheek against Robbie’s shoulder.   
  
“Love alone is capable of uniting living beings in such a way as to complete and fulfil them, for it alone takes them and joins them by what is deepest in themselves.”  Though he didn’t speak loudly, he would have been clearly heard in the reverently quiet room.  
  
“One of the guys in the band?” Robbie murmured.  
  
“Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, French philosopher and Jesuit priest.” James kissed his cheek and stood up.  
  
Robbie laid the pen on the schedule and gave up his seat to Jean.  Laura was already witnessing the schedule.  
  
Robbie took up his place next to James and waited for Laura and Jean.  The registrar motioned to Lyn, who had asked if she could do a reading, to the delight of both men.  However, when Robbie had asked what she would read, she had only replied, “Do you trust me?”  James had initially been hesitant until Lyn hinted it would be neither Shakespeare nor any pre-twentieth century author, poet or playwright.  They were both intrigued to hear what she had chosen.  
  
She kissed Robbie and James, turned to face the room and unfolded a single sheet of paper.  
  
“This is by Louis de Bernières.  I’m not sure if this is an exact quote, but it’s the version I like the most.”  She cleared her throat and began to read.   
  
“Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides.  And when it subsides you have to make a decision.  You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that is inconceivable that you should ever part.  Because this is what love is.  Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day.  That is just being ‘in love’, which any fool can do.  Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.  Those who truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from the branches they find that they are one tree and not two.”  
  
“Thank you, pet.”  Robbie hugged her.   
  
James held out his arms when Lyn was free of her dad’s embrace, and held her silently.  Just before he let her go he whispered in her ear.  She blushed.  
  
“James Hathaway, you cheeky sod.”  She giggled quietly.  She kissed his cheek quickly and returned to her seat.  
  
Robbie raised his eyebrows at James, who grinned and shook his head slightly, as much as to say, ‘not right now’.  
  
A touch on his elbow drew their attention back to the registrar.  “Your commemorative certificate, gentlemen.”  
  
“Ladies and gentlemen, now is the moment I’m sure many of you have been waiting for – you may now take photographs.  We have reached the culmination of today’s proceedings.  Robbie and James, the experience of living day by day as legal partners is about to begin, go and enjoy each other and the love you share.  In the presence of your friends, family and witnesses it gives me great pleasure in declaring you are now civil partners to one another.  You may now both kiss the groom.”  
  
Laura took the certificate from Robbie’s hands.  He placed his hands on James’s shoulders, as James’s hands settled on his hips.  “I love you,” he whispered as James sank into his embrace.  
  
Instead of kissing him immediately, James nestled his face against Robbie’s neck.  “I can’t find the words to express how much I love you.”  
  
Robbie nuzzled James’s neck and took the opportunity to use the private moment.  “Can you tell me what you said to Lyn?  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look that embarrassed and pleased at the same time.”  
  
James snorted softly.  “I thanked her for the reading… and told her I’d be proud to call her my step-daughter.”  
  
“She’s right.  You are a cheeky sod.  But you’re my cheeky sod.”  
  
Surrounded by the whirr and click of cameras and phones, and the rising chorus of congratulations, Robbie cradled James’s cheek and finally kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't name any particular pieces of music for the ceremony – I wouldn't dare like to second guess Hathaway – but these would be my choices.
> 
> Arrival music: Adagio from Mozart's Grand Partita Serenade. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mYUMctFm60>
> 
> Signing of the Schedule: Vivaldi: Concerto For Lute in D Major: II. Largo Rv 93. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNoL9jme_b0>
> 
> Final piece for the exit: On Earth As It Is In Heaven by Ennio Morricone, from the soundtrack to The Mission. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3V8aZLTpKXo>
> 
> Lyn quotes from _Captain Corelli’s Mandolin_ by Louis de Bernières.


End file.
